Skin Deep
by Squeeka Cuomo
Summary: Seven years after graduation, Puck learns there are some wounds that are more than skin deep. - NEW: CHAPTER 10/10
1. Promises  Seven Years

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 1: Promises/Seven Years**

_**In which a promise is made…**_

Puck stuck the cap of the black Sharpie pen in his mouth and gave it a small tug. With a soft pop, the top of the marker came free. And without a second thought, he pressed the tip of it into a sleeping Kurt's shoulder. A small smile crossing his face, Puck began to drawn.

With Kurt spread out on top of him, his head resting on Puck's chest, Puck wasn't able to reach very far. But he was content with the bare shoulder that Kurt had unknowingly offered up to him in his sleep. Gently placing his hand on Kurt's shoulder, Puck started off with a few loopy spirals, nothing fancy or involved. However, he soon grew bored with the repetitious movements and switched to drawing little music notes. In the dim light he hoped that they would be somewhat in line. He highly doubted that though.

Once again however, the novelty of the designs quickly wore off. This time though, instead of picking some meaningless symbol, Puck hastily scrawled a few lyrics across Kurt's shoulder. The words were from the song that Puck had sung to Kurt on their first day as seniors at WHMS, not to mention Kurt's first day back from Dalton.

At first, he'd chosen the song for two reasons. The first reason was that he'd thought it would make Kurt want to kiss him again. And more than that, it had been the first song that had come to mind. Both explanations were ridiculous, but the meaning the song held for them wasn't. And seeing those words on Kurt's skin, even if it was only Sharpie, gave Puck the chills.

Deep down, Puck knew that coming morning, Kurt would scrub the words away, washing them down the drain, but for now it was there. For _now_, Kurt's flesh bore the truth of Puck's love.

That was good enough for him.

The pale moonlight that filtered in through the small windows bathed Kurt's pale skin in a soft bluish light. Carefully looking over his boyfriend's shoulder, Puck tried to figure out just how far he could reach without waking Kurt up. Unfortunately though, it seemed like Puck wouldn't be able to reach more than Kurt's shoulder; which wasn't nearly enough to create a masterpiece on. For that, Puck would need access to the entire expanse of Kurt's naked back, as well as a few hours.

In a short time, Puck could create a sweeping design of music notes and trees, swirling designs and song lyrics that would lovingly caress Kurt's bare skin like a lover.

And Kurt would let him.

He would lie there on his stomach, his pristine flesh exposed to none but Puck. With each stroke of the Sharpie, Kurt would sigh in contentment or giggle softly. Sometimes he would laugh so much that he'd cause Puck to make a mistake. At other times, he would drift off into a peaceful slumber as Puck worked away.

Tonight though, none of that would happen. Because Kurt was asleep on Puck's chest, and it was their last night together before stepping out into the "real world" for the first time. Once the morning came, college and separate states would come with it. So, for tonight Puck was content to hold his boyfriend close, enjoying the feel of skin against skin.

Earlier that afternoon, Kurt, Finn, Quinn, Mike and he had graduated on the William McKinley football field. For Puck, it had felt like nothing short of a miracle to walk across the stage and accept his diploma from Figgins. There had been quite a few times over the past few years when he'd been convinced that he'd either be held back, expelled, or sent back to juvie for good. But he'd changed so much over the past year, and he was positive that that had everything to do with Kurt (and some tutoring from Artie). And amazingly enough, none of that had happened, and he'd even managed get to get into an art school in California.

Granted, California wasn't exactly ideal with Kurt going to New York, but they'd promised, more than once, to make it work.

After throwing their caps in the air earlier that afternoon, Kurt and Puck had posed for pictures with what seemed like everyone. Quinn and Mike had insisted on a picture of them along with Finn. Rachel and Mercedes, who'd come to see their friends graduate, had insisted on ten pictures each. That was to say nothing of all the pictures that his mom and Kurt's dad and step-mom had wanted.

Once the clicking of cameras had finally died away, Puck and Kurt had gone to lunch with both of their families in tow.

That evening they'd headed over to Mike's for a party. It had taken Mike _months_ to convince his mom to let him throw the shindig, and it had been guaranteed to be low key. But Puck, Kurt, and Mike had been friends for years, and there had been no way Puck would miss it.

As predicted, the party had turned out to be pretty lifeless. Mrs. Chang had monitored the group like she was watching first graders with macaroni and paste. So even though Puck and Kurt had known it was their last real night with these people, they'd left early.

The drive from Mike's house to Kurt's had been silent, and they'd held hands as Puck drove. The quiet had been comfortable, the type that only developed between two people who had come to love, accept, and trust one another completely.

By the time they'd pulled into Kurt's driveway, it had been one thirty in the morning, and the Hummel house had been completely dark. And that had suited Puck just fine, because it had meant that they wouldn't have to try and sneak past Mr. Hummel. Still holding hands, they'd climbed the two flights of stairs to Kurt's spacious room. Together they'd made love, softly and tenderly, not caring about what the morning would surely bring. Because once the sun rose and the spell of night was broken, Kurt would be gone, off to school for summer workshops before class started in the fall. Puck had hoped they would have the summer together, but Kurt wanted out of Lima, and the singing and acting workshops would give him a leg up come fall.

Afterwards, Kurt had curled into Puck's side and had fallen asleep almost instantly. Puck had managed to stay awake, stroking Kurt's hair and the lines of his face, hoping to commit that picture to his memory forever.

But after a while, Puck had reached over to the top drawer of Kurt's bedside table and pulled out one of the markers that Kurt kept there for him. And now, his shoulder was covered in an array of music notes and swirls, not to mention the song lyrics.

Satisfied with his work, Puck pulled the marker back and sighed. The moon still shined through the windows by Kurt's bed, and Puck could feel the gentle rise and fall of Kurt's chest against his own. He was pretty sure that the moment was as close to perfection as he could even hope to get.

With room left on Kurt's shoulder, Puck popped the cap back on the Sharpie and tossed onto the bedside table. He thought that he'd been smooth and kept from moving too much. But as Kurt stirred on his chest, Puck realized that he was wrong.

"_Mmmm…_" Kurt's murmur was thick with sleep. "Wha's goin' on? Wha' time is it?" He adjusted his cheek on Puck's bare chest, sighing deeply.

"Nothing, babe." Puck smiled as Kurt groaned sleepily at the nickname. He knew Kurt hated it, but Puck also suspected that he secretly loved it. "It's -" He grabbed the cell phone off the bedside table and lit up the screen. "Three fifty seven."

"Already?" Kurt wrapped his arm more tightly around Puck's waist, as if he was afraid he might slip away in the night.

"Yep. Already." The words came out sounding much heavier than he'd intended. But their time was quickly running out.

"I never…" Still hazy with sleep, Kurt nuzzled his face gently against Puck's chest. "Want this to end." Before settling down again he pressed a tender kiss into Puck's skin.

"Me either." Puck ran his fingertips over the designs he'd just finished on Kurt's shoulder, eliciting a small sigh from the other boy.

"Noah?" Kurt's voice sounded slightly more alert than before, but he still sounded groggy.

Puck's hand moved from Kurt's shoulder to the soft strands of his hair. "Yeah?"

Using the hand on Puck's ribs, Kurt pushed himself up to look at Puck. Kurt's beautiful blue eyes were bright and oddly serious, which shocked Puck. "Will you promise me something?"

Even though Kurt's expression worried him, Puck answered without hesitation. "Yeah, totally."

"Ten years from now…." Kurt pressed his lips together like he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. "No matter where we are, we'll meet each other."

Confused, Puck leaned back into the plush pillow so he could see Kurt's face better. "But I thought that we -"

"I know." Kurt smiled softly and squeezed Puck's side a little. "I know. But just…." The words trailed off ominously. "Please? Will you promise me?"

"I… uh…." Puck eyed his boyfriend. Even though he was lying in bed with someone who was pressing him further into the mattress, he felt off balance.

They'd promised they'd make the distance work. They'd even discussed when they'd be able to visit each other already. So… why? _Why_ did Kurt was him to make _that_ promise?

"Noah?" Kurt sounded uncertain, and there was worry seeping into his eyes.

"I…." Puck wanted to say no, that he didn't like how the sound of that made him feel. But Kurt's eyes, so unsure, so worried, wouldn't let him. "Ok. Fine." Kurt smiled in relief, but Puck felt far from reassured. "But does it have to be ten years? That's like… a _really_ long way away."

Kurt laughed softly, and the sound seemed to fill the whole room. "Fine. How about…." He screwed up his face in mock concentration. "Seven?"

"Five?" Puck's tone was hopeful. He was determined to bargain the time down as much as possible.

"Nope." Kurt smirked." "Seven years is the lowest I'll go." There was finality to Kurt's words that crushed Puck's hopes.

"Fine. Where do you want to meet?" Puck sounded sullen, and he knew it. But he didn't care.

"How about…." Kurt pouted as he tried to think of the perfect location. "The football field. At… seven fifteen?"

"What?" Puck couldn't help but laugh. He'd expected something romantic like BreadstiX or some park. Not the WMHS football field. "Why there?"

"Just because. It seems appropriate for some reason." Kurt smiled mischievously as he brought himself within an inch of kissing Puck. "But really, it doesn't matter…."

"You're right. It doesn't. 'Cause we'll still be together." Puck wanted nothing more than to close the space between Kurt's lips and his, but he managed to hold his ground.

For a moment, Kurt didn't say anything. Instead, he just smiled, almost sadly. When he finally spoke, his voice was as gentle as a caress. "I know…." Without another word, he pressed his mouth against Puck's.

At first, the kiss was gentle, but as he parted his lips for Puck, it became bittersweet.

This was it.

The end.

And neither of them wanted to let go….

When Puck woke up in Kurt's bed the next morning, Kurt had already left for New York.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which time has passed…**_

Around seven o'clock, Puck pulled into the parking lot of the McKinley High football field. Shutting off the motor of his sister's Bug, he sat back in the seat and looked out over the field. A long time ago, he'd played football on that field, and exactly seven years ago, he'd graduated on it. And despite the years that had gone by, it looked, oddly enough, exactly the same.

Puck didn't really know why, but he was prepared for it to look different. A few years ago his sister, Abbey, had said that Figgins had finally gotten rid of the slushie machines. So when Puck had come back, he'd expected to see more changes to his old school. Like maybe a new gym or even permanent restrooms instead of the Port-A-Potties at the edge of the field.

But no.

Everything looked just as it had the last time he'd walked off that field.

It was familiar yet foreign at the same time, and Puck wished that he could leave. He didn't like being back. As odd as it seemed, being there made his flesh crawl. It was so full of memories and reminders that Puck felt as if he was staring at the ghost of an ex-lover he'd once cared for deeply but had come to despise.

For the past month, Puck had dreaded returning to his old school. He'd been so worried that he'd be overwhelmed with nostalgia for his teenage years and the time he'd spent within those walls. But as Puck stared out across the green field, he realized that he felt nothing at all.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't filled with conflicting emotions.

But they had nothing to do with longing to be sixteen again.

Puck was twenty-five and happy with his life. Things hadn't been perfect since he'd graduated from high school, but they'd been pretty good.

In his third year of school, Puck had walked into a small tattoo shop off of campus and gotten his first tattoo. It was simple, just a few lines from a song on the inside of his right forearm. But it had woken up something inside of Puck that he'd thought he'd lost. It had been _years_ since he'd pressed the tip of a pen or a marker to Kurt's skin or anyone's for that matter, and he'd forgotten how much he loved it.

The next year, Puck had put together a portfolio of the work he'd done at school. And almost immediately he'd gotten an apprenticeship at Skin Deep, a local tattoo parlor. Four years later he was still there, working his way up the food chain. And a few months ago Sully, his teacher and boss, had allowed him to start tattooing without being monitored. Which he was loving every minute of it.

Other than having an awesome job, he had his own apartment and an English bulldog named Max.

The only thing he didn't have was Kurt.

Or anyone for that matter.

In retrospect, Puck realized just how naïve he'd been about his and Kurt's chances of staying together. They'd been nothing more than kids when they'd promised they'd make it work. And their relationship, once so strong, hadn't even made it to their first winter break.

At first, they'd called, texted, tweeted, and emailed one another constantly. It would start in the morning with a "good morning" call or text and end with long accounts of their days before bed. But a few months into school they'd slowly stopped emailing and tweeting. Then they'd quit texting and calling as much. Until one day, they'd stopped talking altogether.

There was no official breakup, but Puck had known it was over when Kurt hadn't come home for Thanksgiving. And though it had hurt and still did, Puck didn't blame Kurt or even himself.

They'd just fallen apart naturally.

Looking back, he knew that it had been inevitable.

After going back to California after winter break, Puck had vowed to move on with his life. He'd decided to finally go out with the cute blonde in his still life class who'd kept hitting on him. And he also decided that he would never write on a lover's skin again.

Both promises he'd kept.

He and Bella (the blonde girl) had stayed together for a pretty great six months. But a pregnancy scare, far too reminiscent of Quinn, had broken them up. That reminder of his sophomore year and all the drama the pregnancy had caused had scared him off of girls for the next three years.

Over the years, he'd had a few other important relationships but nothing _really_ special. The closest he'd come to that was Scott.

Scott was a sweet guy who'd accidentally run smack into Puck on his way to class one day. He had dark hair, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. He loved singing and dancing and going out shopping and to a club every once in a while.

Puck hadn't realized just how similar Scott was to Kurt until their one year anniversary rolled around. Scott had planned out a romantic evening complete with dinner and candles. His gift to Puck, among other things, had been a rendition of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" that had made Puck's blood run cold.

They'd broken up a week later.

Taking a deep breath, Puck pulled himself out of his thoughts. He'd never really been one for introspection, and being back in Lima had caused him to become just that. It wasn't that he had anything against Lima per se. It was much more about the _reason_ he'd come back than anything else.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Kurt had made him promise to come back here. Honestly, at the time, Puck had thought that he'd forget by now. But he hadn't. That night, those words, were seared into his memory.

Seven years.

Seven fifteen pm.

The McKinley High football field.

Looking down at the car's digital clock, Puck felt his chest tighten. It was seven fifteen on the button. With anxiety filling him, he looked out over the field and then at the parking lot around him. There was nothing. Not even a squirrel scampering up a nearby tree.

Worried but not ready to give up hope, Puck waited. After all, Kurt had never been exactly punctual. His grasp on time was much more fluid than most people's. And with that thought in mind, Puck began to wait.

Seven fifteen became seven thirty, and seven thirty quickly became eight. When the clock flashed nine pm, Puck drove back to his mom's, feeling disappointed and stupid.

He flew back to California the next day.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Puck sprayed the vinyl chair in front of him with a powerful disinfectant before giving it a thorough wipe down. Before the streaks of cleaner had a chance to dry, he did it again.

The client he'd just finished tattooing (two anchors with a chain wrapped around them in a heart shape) had smelled like he hadn't taken a shower in a few years. In fact, he had reeked so bad that Puck had to concentrate on not gagging as he'd worked. Now that he was gone, Puck was giving his station an even more thorough cleaning than his boss, Sully, insisted upon.

"Welcome to Skin Deep." Even though Puck was set up towards the back of the shop, he could hear Sully's voice loud and clear. He could never hear the tinkling entrance bell over the din of music and conversation, but he could always hear his boss.

Which Puck found oddly comforting.

Smiling to himself, Puck wiped down his stool with the same disinfectant he'd just used on the chair. Puck knew that he was clean, but Sully had had taught him to never take any chances. In fact, that had been the first thing he'd taught Puck.

"So… what do you have in mind?" Puck tuned his boss out and went back to his work and his own thoughts.

It had been a little over a week since Puck had returned from Lima. And in an effort to get his mind off of the past and Kurt and the fact that he'd never shown up, Puck had thrown himself even more whole-heartedly into his work. He'd been apprenticing there for four years, and even though Sully let him tattoo unsupervised and he was getting paid, he wanted to be considered a full-fledged tattoo artist. So, despite the fact that Sully had thought he was nuts, Puck had picked up a few more hours at the shop doing everything from making coffee to taking out the trash.

And for the most part, his thoughts had stayed relatively Kurt free. Granted, Max didn't seem happy about seeing less of him, but the dog could deal with it. After all, Meena was there to help look after him.

"Here, let me set you up with our most promising up and comer." Puck smiled softly to himself at the pride he'd heard in Sully's voice. As he was currently the only apprentice, Puck knew that he was talking about him. "Noah! You got a client!"

All but hopping off of the stool, Puck walked to the front of the shop, wondering what his next tattoo would be and who it would be on.

But as he got to the front and saw who was there, Puck had to force himself to keeping moving forward. Because standing at the counter, eyes shining and cheeks flushed with excitement, was Kurt.

And standing next to him, an arm thrown carelessly around Kurt's shoulders was a pompous-looking blonde man Puck had never seen before.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- The beautiful banner I'm using was made by my beta, Duckie Nicks. Thank you so much.  
- Quack: Thanks for being such an awesome friend and beta. I couldn't do this without you.  
- **Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
- Reviews are love.


	2. Acceptance Inked

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 2: Acceptance/Inked**

_**In which Kurt tries to act put out…**_

"That…" Puck paused to smirk down at Kurt. "Could have gone _way_worse." He quirked one eyebrow before attacking Kurt's pursed mouth with his own.

But from the look on Kurt's face, Puck could tell he was not having it.

Putting his hands on Puck's chest, Kurt pushed him back. Puck snorted, amused at Kurt attempting to look dignified. To Puck though, the effect was spoiled. Kurt was lying on lying on his bed, the top few buttons on his shirt undone and his hair a mess. Puck tried not to laugh at the sight, but he couldn't help it. Kurt did _not_do rumpled indignation well.

"Noah! It's not funny!" Kurt gave another shove on Puck's chest. But it was half-hearted at best, and Puck didn't even budge an inch. "You announced to the glee club that we're sleeping together. Which, if I remember correctly, is _not_what we'd discussed. So now, of course, the whole school knows!" Kurt's voice was irritated, but Puck could tell that he wasn't really mad.

Not anymore anyway.

"But, babe -" When Kurt groaned in annoyance at the nickname, Puck smirked. "It's totally true. We are." Puck pressed down against the hands that were on his chest. Kurt didn't even bother trying to resist. And Puck smiled as Kurt's elbows bent and his arms slid securely around Puck's neck. "And why wouldn't I want everyone to know that you…." He pressed a kiss into Kurt's forehead. "Are all…." This time, the kiss fell on his cheek. "_Mine_?" The last was placed against Kurt's waiting mouth.

For the next few minutes, they simply explored with lips and teeth and tongues. But when Puck felt Kurt's hands move down to the hem of his shirt, Puck pulled back.

Puck watched as Kurt's eyes fluttered open in confusion. "Wh… why'd you stop?" His tone was breathy and made Puck want to pick right back up where they'd left off. But he had something else he needed to tell Kurt first.

However, he didn't quite know how to go about that.

As Puck tried to think of what to say, he watched Kurt's expression became more and more worried. Puck's mind reeled as he tried to come up with just the right words. But no matter what he came up with, nothing seemed right. It all just seemed so lame and inadequate.

He wanted to think a little more, but Kurt looked like he was going to scream. So rather than wait any longer, Puck smiled a little. "Guess what?" It wasn't brilliant, but it would have to do.

"What? Tell me!" Kurt's words were strained. The slight trace of impending panic amused Puck.

Early on, Puck had learned that Kurt didn't handle suspense well. It made him twitchy and irritable. And while Puck normally liked to draw things out for that very reason, he decided against it just this once. This was too big of a deal to play around with.

"I got into art school in California." Puck tried to sound as humble as possible, but that didn't change the fact that he was proud of himself. "I mean, yeah. Ok. It was open admissions. But still..."

"Noah!" Kurt's face split into a wide smile, and he placed his right hand on Puck's cheek. "That's great. I told you you could do it." Puck smiled as his boyfriend beamed up at him. "I'm _so_ happy for you." Puck turned his face into Kurt's palm and placed a small kiss there. "And we can _definitely_make California and New York work. It'll be easy."

Puck smiled down at his boyfriend, suddenly aware of just how lucky he was to have him. Because if it hadn't been for Kurt, Puck never would have applied to college, let alone art school, in the first place. No one had ever supported or encouraged him like Kurt had. Not even his own mom. That wasn't to say that she didn't take care of him or look out for him, but it just wasn't the same.

She _had_ to love him. Kurt _didn't_.

With Kurt beaming up at him, Puck tried to think of something, _anything_to say. But nothing seemed right. He'd never been particularly good with words, always being more of a physical being.

Joy was high fives and man-hugs.

Anger was punches and shoving.

But contentment, joy, and pride… those required a different type of reaction.

A type that, when it came to Kurt, Puck only had one type of response for….

Giving up on words, Puck leaned forward pressed his mouth against Kurt's once again.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which the blonde's name is Biff…**_

The closer Puck got to Kurt and _whoever_the other guy was, the tenser Puck became. He could feel his shoulders pulling together and his jaw clenching painfully. At his sides, his fingers had curled into balls, and Puck shoved them into his pockets to hide the fists.

He tried to tell himself that it was unprofessional to let a client see him so worked up. But Puck knew that it had nothing to do with that and _everything_to do with Kurt's presence.

Forget the fact that Kurt had stood him up only a week ago.

It had been seven years since they'd seen each other.

_Seven_. _Years_.

And yeah, Puck knew that after seven years of not hearing from Kurt or seeing him that he should have been over it. After all, he had a life, a job, an apartment, not to mention exes. He also knew that Kurt had to have the same. They'd both grown up and moved on with their lives after all.

But besides his accomplishments, Puck was a different person now. And most importantly, he _liked_the man he'd become.

He was no longer the stupid jock everyone feared or the guy that everyone drooled over. Now, he was Noah Puckerman – tattoo artist and all around cool guy. People were no longer afraid of him, and that was fine. And, ok… people did still swoon over him, but he didn't mind that at all.

But the more Puck tried to convince himself of that…

The harder he tried to tell himself that seeing Kurt had no effect on him…

The louder the tiny voice in his head tried to tell him that he was an idiot. It then reminded him that they'd never officially broken up and that, therefore, their relationship had had no true resolution or ending. But the worst was when it reminded Puck of the fact that he still loved Kurt and that he probably always would.

Still walking, he tried to silence the voice, to tell it to get lost. Puck also tried to tell it that his reaction to Kurt was nostalgia and hormones.

Neither of those, however, explained the flash of pain that shot through his chest when Kurt turned and looked him in the eye.

Kurt's gaze, clear and bright, caused Puck's stomach to clench so painfully that his breath caught in his throat. And as he tried to breathe, Puck quickly took in Kurt's appearance.

He had aged, that was for sure. His cheeks were no longer full and round like a child's, though his cheeks bones were still tinged with red. Puck couldn't help wonder if the flush was from seeing him or something that the blonde man with him had just said (or did). Other than that, Kurt's hair was a little longer and hung in an artfully messy display over his forehead. He also looked a little taller and slimmer, not to mention slightly more muscular than he had been in high school.

And despite or most likely because of the changes, Kurt looked more beautiful than Puck could ever remember him being.

For a few moments, their gazes stayed locked. Puck was frozen in shock, but he could still read the recognition in Kurt's expression. However, just as Puck opened his mouth to say something, Kurt turned to the man next to him.

Puck watched in silence as Kurt pressed his lips into the other man's cheek. And even though it had been obvious that they were a couple, it still caused a dull sense of shock, hurt, and jealousy to flood through Puck's body.

"Well, this here…." When Puck felt Sully's strong hand clasp his shoulder, it took everything he possessed not to jump. He'd been so caught up in seeing Kurt that he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to be working. "Is Noah. He's one of the brightest new artists ever to come through here." Puck didn't need to see Sully's face to know he was grinning with pride.

Normally, Puck would have sucked up that pride like an extra-absorbent sponge. But with Kurt there, looking at Sully, his blue eyes sparkling… Puck could barely stand it. It was like being stripped and laid bare in front of a jury. Because Puck knew that if it hadn't been for Kurt… he'd never have gone to art school in the first place. And therefore, he'd never have become a tattoo artist.

It was because of Kurt that he was who he was and where he was.

But even though Puck knew he should have been thanking Kurt for that, he wanted nothing more than to run and hide from him _and_Sully.

He refused to give into the impulse though. He was an adult and a professional, and he refused to let his past get the best of him.

"Hey." Puck raised his hand in a ridiculous mock wave of introduction. Normally, he'd have stepped forward and shaken his client's hand. But Puck didn't think he could handle that in front of Sully and the guy Kurt was with. As it was, Kurt had turned away from _him_, hadn't acknowledged _him_, so Puck didn't really know how Kurt wanted to handle things.

He was pretty sure though that Kurt intended to act like they'd never met before.

At all.

"Umh… hello." The blonde man pulled his arm from around Kurt's shoulders and extended his hand to Puck. With a chuckle he said, "I'm Biff."

Puck reluctantly stepped forward and shook Biff's hand, all the while trying not to snort at his name. Because really… _Biff_? Who named their kids Biff? Except rich yuppies that was.

Surprisingly enough, the blonde's grip was strong, and Puck matched it with interest before letting go. With grim satisfaction, Puck noticed the man flex his fingers as if they hurt before wrapping himself around Kurt again.

"And this…." Biff gave Kurt's shoulders a squeeze. As he did, Kurt smiled uncomfortably and dropped his eyes to the floor. "Is Kurt."

"Cool." The second the word was out of Puck's mouth, he felt like a moron. But there was nothing else to say. He also wasn't about to offer anything more than that to Kurt. "So… who's here to get tattooed?"

As he asked the question, Puck heard Sully mumble something along the lines of, "You've got this," before walking away. And even though he was still shook up, Puck knew his job and was confident in what he was doing.

When Biff's face split into a wide (and slightly tipsy) grin, Puck felt himself relax even more. Right when he'd first seen them, he'd assumed that Biff would be the one wanting a tattoo.

After all, when they'd been together, Kurt had been completely against anything that left even a semi-permanent mark on his pale skin. So hickeys, biting, fingernails… they'd all been forbidden. That was why Sharpies had been so perfect. With a little scrubbing, the ink washed away.

It had been a great compromise.

So when Puck heard Biff say, "That would be Kurt," Puck had to hide his shock.

Clenching his jaw together once, twice, he forced himself to stay calm and collected. It was a task that took almost all of his strength and composure. "Well, _Kurt_, what did you have in mind?" Even as he said the words, Puck could hardly believe them. For some reason, he almost felt betrayed by Kurt's desire to mark up his body. Kurt had always been so… protective of his skin even though Puck had wanted nothing more than to see some physical reminder of his presence on Kurt's flesh. Now here Kurt was, ready to permanently scar himself.

And it irritated Puck.

He knew it shouldn't, but it did.

"Uh, here…." Puck turned his eyes from Kurt to Biff and watched as he dug around in his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he passed a small piece of paper that had been folded in half to Puck. "We found this online."

Grateful for the excuse to look away from them, Puck unfolded the paper and looked down at it. The design was simple, cliché even – a heart made out of music clefs. Then to an angle off the bottom of the right side was a K that had been drawn on in Kurt's familiar scrawl. Folding the paper back over and shoving it in his own pocket, Puck could barely believe that he still recognized Kurt's handwriting.

"Alright. This is a pretty simple design. I don't need time to make a stencil." Puck shrugged a little. "I can just draw it on you."

Puck watched as Kurt's blue eyes widened fractionally. It was slight, but Puck had seen it. It wasn't until then that he realized the implications of what he'd said. After all, he free handed designs on people all of the time. A lot of his customers were drunken girls wanting butterflies or hearts, and those were quick and easy to sketch on.

But Kurt wasn't some cheap drunk girl stumbling around in the middle of the night with her friends. Their past was too deep, too filled with history for this to be casual. So to draw on his skin… to press the tip of the black Sharpie to his pale skin once again after so much time apart…

Puck wasn't really sure if he could handle it.

And by the look of uncertainty on Kurt's face, he didn't look like he would be able to deal with it either.

Taking shallow breaths, Puck stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Well, he knew what she was supposed to do, but he couldn't seem to make his mind or his feet work. Across from him, Kurt didn't look any better. His eyes were trained on the floor once again, and his chest was rising and falling with labored breaths.

This time, unlike when they'd been introduced, Biff noticed that something was wrong.

Biff's brown eyes flickered from his boyfriend to Puck. "You ok, babe?"

Hearing someone else refer to Kurt as 'babe' caused a twinge of jealousy to seep into Puck's bones.

That had always been his name for Kurt, and he hated hearing it coming out of the blonde buffoon's mouth.

"I have asked you _not_to call me that." Kurt's voice was low and dangerous, and Puck found himself having to fight back a satisfied smirk. "I can't stand it." Kurt purposely kept his eyes on Biff. But Puck could tell that he was having a hard time maintaining his focus.

"Sorry, _Kurt_." Biff's tone was embarrassed but not apologetic. "I was just wondering if you'd changed your mind about getting the tattoo."

"No." Kurt's eyes hardened slightly as he looked from Biff to Puck. It was a look of resolve that Puck had seen _many_ times before. Whenever Kurt had worn the expression, it had meant that he was facing a challenge and he _wasn't_about to back down for anything.

"Alright." For just a second, Puck met Kurt's gaze, hoping to convey… something. He didn't know what message he was trying to send or even if it was good, bad, or something in between. But he hoped that Kurt got it nonetheless.

By the look of complete ambivalence on Kurt's face though, he either hadn't or simply didn't care.

Puck tried to hide the disappointment at Kurt's lack of response. He also tried to bury the swirling eddy of emotions that had filled the moment he saw Kurt at the counter. If he managed to hide it though, Puck didn't know. "Follow me." Turning away from Kurt and Biff, Puck began the short walk back to his station. With each step he forced himself to swallow his feelings, to bury the past.

"So…." Puck's voice trailed off as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing. It was like the sight of Kurt had erased the past seven years and he was back to being the mindless jock he'd been at McKinley. And he _hated_himself for it. He wasn't that person anymore.

He _couldn't_be.

"Yeah, so…." Biff's voice, confused and slightly irritated, cut through Puck's thoughts. And it wasn't until Puck picked up on the hint of exasperation on the blonde's face that he realized he'd been staring.

"Right." Puck resisted the urge to run his hand over his mohawk, and for the first time in years, he wondered why he still had it. "Umh…." Breathing deeply, he forced himself to calm down and remember what came next. "Well…." He sat down on his stool and thought back to Sully's lessons. "Where do you want it?"

"On…." The resolve Kurt had gathered up only minutes ago seemed to waver slightly. "On my hip."

Puck's eyebrows rose as he watched Kurt take a few steps towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Biff moving, but Puck didn't care what he was doing.

"Ok." Puck swallowed. "I need you to undo your pants so I can see the area." He felt stupid saying the words, because obviously Kurt would need to unzip his pants if he wanted a tattoo on his hip. But Puck had had to say something, and he wanted to try and remain professional. He knew that it was the only way he'd be able to get through this. Keep it clinical, unemotional.

Right?

As Kurt's hands moved to his belt, Puck forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. He wasn't seventeen anymore, and he couldn't let Kurt undoing his pants affect him. But Puck continued to watch as Kurt's fingers pulled at the strip of leather. But before he pulled it out of the buckle, Kurt's eyes dropped to the floor. Kurt finished working the leather over the silver buckle, undoing it. Puck tried not to stare, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Kurt. He looked shy as he undid the button and then the zipper, almost as if he was sixteen again.

After sliding the zipper down, Kurt placed his hands on the open waist of his jeans. "Umh…" He tugged at them a little, as if trying to hide behind the fabric. "What, what do I do?"

Those simple movements brought back so many memories.

Memories that had long ago buried themselves in his subconscious.

Puck's eyes fell to Kurt's fingers, clutching at his clothing. As he stared, Puck remembered all of the times those same digits had been laced through his or slid beneath his football jersey. "I, uh…." Blinking a few times, Puck forced himself back into the here and now and away from those memories. "Lay down."

While Kurt climbed onto the bench that Puck had cleaned not fifteen minutes earlier, Puck forced himself to look away. Biff, who had been moving around, apparently looking at the various posters and signs on the walls, had grabbed a stool from a nearby station and was now pulling it up next to Kurt.

Sitting down, Biff smiled at Kurt, and Puck officially decided that he didn't like him.

At all.

It wasn't that he was jealous of Biff or anything like that. But the guy's overly blond hair, pale green polo shirt, and entitled (though drunken) attitude rubbed Puck the wrong way.

Hoping Biff wouldn't try to start a conversation with him, Puck turned his attention back to Kurt. He was stretched out on the bench, a self-conscious expression on his face. Puck wanted to reassure him, tell him everything would be fine. But he couldn't. Not just because of Biff, but because of their unresolved history as well. "Can you pull down the top of your pants? So I can get to the area?" As he waited, Puck pulled on a pair of black latex gloves, trying to use the time to clear his mind.

Still looking uncomfortable, Kurt pushed down the band of his jeans to expose his hips and the top band of deep blue briefs. The skin, so fair and soft, almost took Puck's breath away as he gently swabbed the area, cleaning off excess oils and lotions. The touch, a fact of his job, pulled up reminders of minutes stolen in a broom closet and nights when he'd crawled through Kurt's window. And as his heart began to race in response, Puck hated himself for not even being able to maintain his cool. After all, he and Kurt had been broken up for what felt like a lifetime.

Cursing himself, Puck spun back to his station. Taking a deep breath, he tossed the wet towel in the trash and grabbed his black Sharpie off of the small counter top.

Not ready to turn back around but unable to put if off any longer, Puck spun back to Kurt and Biff. And without a word, he placed his left hand on Kurt's waist to steady himself. Taking one last deep breath, Puck pressed the tip of the marker into Kurt's hip for the first time in seven years.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- I'm sorry about the delay. This was supposed to be up last night. Blame my net for dying and LJ for being lame.  
- I'd like to thank everyone read and reviewed (or even just read) the first chapter. I've had this idea in my head since July 4, 2010. It's great to see that people are enjoying it. :)  
- Quack: Thank you so much for you dedication. But thank you even more for being such an awesome friend.  
- **Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
- Reviews are love.


	3. Out Initials

**Skin Deep**  
**Chapter 3: Out/Initials**

_**In which it was totally worth it…**_

"Alright, Puck." Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together and looked expectantly from Puck to Kurt. The ridiculous sight caused Puck to roll his eyes. "What's this big announcement you two want to make?"

Filled with jittery excitement, Puck elbowed Kurt before jumping out of the plastic choir room chair. "Thanks, Mr. Schue." In three steps, he bounded to the front of the room. As Puck turned to face everyone, Schuester moved over to lean on the piano.

As discussed (at length) the night before, Kurt had come to stand next to him. His hands were folded primly in front of himself. And even though they weren't touching, Puck could feel his charged excitement.

Kurt smiled at him nervously, and Puck thought about leaning over and nipping playfully at his earlobe (one of the places teeth hadn't been outlawed). But he didn't. Because even though he was pretty sure Kurt would smack him if he did, it wasn't time for that. Up till now, public displays of anything _but_animosity had been strictly forbidden.

But not for very much longer….

"Ok…." Puck shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out at the rest of the glee club. They were all staring at him expectantly. Rachel, as always, looked as if whatever was about to be said was for her and her alone. Finn's expression was mildly curious, and Mercedes looked like she was going to kill someone if he didn't spill soon.

"We…." For the first time since deciding to do this, Puck felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. Swallowing deeply, he turned to his boyfriend. "I…."

Instead of staring at their audience, Kurt's calm gaze was trained on him, a small smile on his face. It was slight but just enough to encourage him. And when Puck looked back to the waiting group once again, he decided to employ an old trick….

Where once sat a group of kids in denim, cotton, and who knew what else, there was now a sea of panties, slips, and boxers.

And he knew then, without a doubt, that he had this.

"Just wanted to let you guys know that Kurt and I are doing the nasty." Puck smirked wickedly when he heard Kurt gasp next to him, "We've been getting down," he drew out the word, relishing the labored huffing coming from the boy next to him. "And dirty for a while now. And we wanted _you _guys to be the first to know."

As his news sunk in, Santana laughed hysterically while Mike passed Artie a five dollar bill. Tina and Mercedes looked as if this was the sweetest thing they'd ever heard. Rachel and Finn, however, were wearing similar looks of confusion.

But, as great as those reactions were, Kurt's was the best. By now, Kurt's gasping had subsided, but his chest was still heaving. And his face was a bright red mask of scandalized horror that made Puck want to burst out laughing.

Even as he stood there, Puck knew that Kurt was plotting his revenge. But Puck didn't care, _couldn't _care.

They were _out_.

_Finally _out.

But even though they'd only told the glee club, Puck was positive that the whole school would know by the end of the day. Because when it came to juicy gossip, Rachel couldn't keep her mouth shut. And that was to say _nothing _of Santana.

That didn't matter to him though. All that mattered was that now they were free to acknowledge each other in the halls and hold hands (not that that was his favorite thing to do in the world but whatever) if they wanted.

And ok… Kurt probably wouldn't want to speak to him again, let alone touch him, because of what he'd just done. After all, he'd completely thrown out the speech Kurt had come up with, a speech that he'd labored over for hours. But to be fair though, Kurt should have known better than to trust him with this. Because really, him reciting a prepared speech? That was never going to happen. So really, this was all Kurt's fault. But even though Kurt was probably mad at him, just knowing that they wouldn't have to sneak around anymore…

Not to mention the horrified look on Kurt's face…

Puck knew it was totally worth it.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which initials are bad luck…**_

As the marker slid over Kurt's hip, forming the simple design, Puck focused on Kurt. Under his left hand, Puck could feel the muscles clenching and unclenching in Kurt's side. And even though that could have been anything, somehow Puck _knew_it was his nerves getting the best of him. Because of that, he knew without a doubt that however calm Kurt was acting, he was anything but.

Gently, Puck tightened his grip on Kurt's waist as he continued to draw out the design. The change in pressure was slight, but now Puck felt like he was _holding _onto Kurt rather than just bracing him. It was so wonderful, so familiar that he had to stop himself from tightening his fingers even more.

Once he finished the heart, Puck moved his hands a little so that he could draw out the "K." As his hand slid over Kurt's exposed skin, Puck heard him gasp softly. And before he could stop himself, his eyes flickered up to Kurt.

Kurt was staring at him, his blue eyes wide and his lips pressed together in shame. Even though Puck's gaze was locked on Kurt, he could see that Biff was still hovering over him. But he didn't seem to have noticed what had happened. Instead, he seemed to be distracted by biting the tips of Kurt's fingers playfully. The sight caused Puck's mouth to go dry almost instantly.

Honestly, Puck had seen worse in the shop and had had to deal with worse while working. And while the smug expression on Biff's (obviously fake) tan face clearly said that the gasp had been for him, Puck knew different. Because Kurt's eyes were locked on _his_, and for that moment, nothing and _no one _else mattered.

They were once again seventeen years old with their whole lives and the whole world ahead of them. Anything and everything was possible, and Puck wanted it all.

"So how's it coming?" Biff's voice, slightly giddy, quickly broke through the bubble that had engulfed Puck and Kurt. It was so abrupt and shocking that Puck was sure he'd heard a balloon popping in the distance.

"Uh…." Puck tore his eyes off of Kurt's and looked back down to where he'd been drawing. With two simple strokes of the sharpie over Kurt's skin, Puck drew on the initial. "Done."

Reluctantly, Puck pulled his hands away, immediately regretting the loss of contact. Turning back to the counter he shoved the cap back on the marker and threw it next to his other pens. And grabbing the small, hand-held mirror, he spun back to Kurt and Biff.

Kurt's hands were now placed protectively over his skin. In the time Puck had turned away, Biff had moved closer to Kurt (if that was possible). He was staring down at Kurt possessively, a disgusting hunger in his eyes. The look of greed on his pointed face was enough to make Puck's skin crawl, and he couldn't help but wonder how Kurt put up with it. Kurt, after all, was not one to put up with jealous, possessive guys. (He'd learned that first hand after pressing for information about Blaine.)

"Here you go." Puck held the mirror out to Kurt who took it from him. "Everything look good?"

Puck watched as Kurt held up the mirror and examined the drawing on his hip. Angling the mirror this way and that, he nodded in approval. "Yes. That's fi-"

"Ba…." Kurt shot Biff a dirty look and his voice trailed off halfway through the word. The sight was so comical that Puck had to swallow a laugh. "Honey." Biff's voice was sugary sweet, and Puck found himself rolling his eyes along with Kurt. (Though, not as noticeably.) "You should have it be K and B! You know… for _us_." Biff nodded as if this was the best idea in the world. And Puck wondered, not for the first time that night, how much the blonde had had to drink or if he was always this irritating.

"I, uh…." Puck watched as Kurt's eyes widened into horrified saucers, and once again, he found himself fighting back the urge to laugh. "Umh…." Kurt angled the mirror again, clearly buying for time.

"It would look great!" The pure enthusiasm in Biff's voice was so earnest that Puck could barely stand it.

Puck prayed that Kurt didn't give in because of it.

"Oh… I…." Kurt closed his eyes and opened them again, like he was hoping the idea might magically disappear. Which, truth be told, really amused Puck.

Until Kurt's horrified eyes met his that was.

"Isn't… isn't it bad luck to have your significant other's named tattooed on you? Or something like that?" His gaze was desperate, and the subtle note of pleading in his voice cut straight to Puck's heart.

Kurt wanted his help. And he couldn't say no.

"Uh, yeah." The lie came out easily, and from the crestfallen look on Biff's face, he'd believed it.

Honestly, Puck had no clue if certain tattoo types were supposed to be bad luck or not. Sure, he'd heard a few things here and there, but he never really paid attention to them. He'd never been big on superstitions.

All he knew was that the look of relief and gratitude on Kurt's face made the lie worthwhile.

"Oh." Biff sounded totally deflated, and Puck prayed that that was simply a byproduct of the alcohol coursing through his veins. Because if this was how Biff always acted, if he really was _that _easily swayed, Puck couldn't understand how Kurt would be able to stand him.

Granted, Puck understood that he hadn't exactly been a genius when he was in high school either. But at least he hadn't been so quick to believe everything he was told. (Finn's prostate lie? Yeah, he'd totally Googled that.)

"Well then -" Puck met Kurt's eyes again. When he saw the look of relief on Kurt's face, he had to bite back a grin. "Now that that's settled…. Are you happy with it? Size, placement, and everything?"

Kurt nodded as he passed the mirror back to Puck. As he handed it to him, Puck's fingers accidentally brushed over Kurt's. The touch, though barely there, caused a jolt of forgotten longing to flash through Puck's stomach.

Desperate to escape the feelings creeping into his body, Puck spun his stool away from Kurt again. Trying to calm himself down, he placed the small mirror on the counter next to the Sharpie. And picking up the black ink, he spun back to Kurt. Not daring to look at him, Puck focused more attention than was necessary on picking up his needle.

Before turning on the machine, he took a deep breath. It didn't really do much to calm his nerves, but he felt better for trying.

The needle buzzing in his hand, Puck slouched on the stool. "So, have you done this before?" He looked at Kurt, waiting for an answer. He figured the answer would be no, but he had to ask anyway.

Kurt opened his mouth and closed it again, uncertainty crossing his pale face. The look confused Puck, and he found himself eyeing Kurt, wondering if it was possible that he'd done this before.

When Kurt hesitated to answer the question, Biff spoke up. And Puck found that he was desperate to know the answer. "Yeah, Kurt has another tattoo. On his -"

"Biff." Kurt hissed the name, his face a mask of irritation that only made Puck more curious.

Biff, however, didn't seem to notice Kurt's warning.

"Shoulder." Puck watched with rapt attention as Biff's eyebrows furrowed, an odd look of drunken confusion twisting his features. The expression made him look like a pitiful puppy dog. "It's some weird song lyrics. But they're a mess. It looks -"

"_Biff_!" Kurt's voice was ice cold now, and Puck felt like he'd been chastised along with Biff.

But that wasn't enough to distract Puck from what Biff had just said though.

Kurt had song lyrics tattooed on his shoulder. Ones that weren't very neat. And even though Puck knew better, he couldn't himself from wondering… no, _hoping _that those were the same words he'd written on the night they'd graduated.

Puck knew it was impossible.

There was no way Kurt would have had some late night scribbling permanently etched into his perfect skin when he was eighteen. But even though he knew that, Puck was desperate to slide down the neck of Kurt's t-shirt. He wanted to see if the words, in his handwriting, were still there, a permanent reminder of the time they'd spent together.

However, Puck knew he couldn't look or even ask what the words were. Because, as unprofessional as that would be… he didn't know how he would react to what he might find there.

"What?" Biff stared at Kurt, confusion filling his question. "He asked if -"

"Ok…." Puck quickly interrupted, worried about how Kurt might react to Biff. "It's just a standard question. I needed to know if you knew what to expect. Pain wise." He opened the ink, trying not to stare at either Biff or Kurt.

"Well, I do." Kurt shot Biff an angry look before turning back to Puck. "Can we do this now? _Please_?" Puck sat up straight as Kurt angrily pushed at the open flaps of his pants, exposing more of his stomach and hips.

Not daring to say anything, Puck dipped the tip of the needle into the open ink. The sooner Kurt was out of his chair, the better.

All he wanted was for the night to be over so he could go home and try to forget that Kurt and his idiot of a boyfriend ever walked through the doors of Skin Deep. He didn't know if it was just shock at seeing Kurt after seven years. Or if he was just angry that Kurt hadn't shown up in Lima. But either way, Puck wanted him gone.

Leaning forward, Puck was just about to press the vibrating needle into Kurt's skin when Biff's voice froze him.

"What's your arm say?" Puck looked up to see Biff staring at his right forearm. And as his glazed eyes roved over the exposed skin, he wished he'd worn long sleeves.

That tattoo, despite its location, was private.

It was _his _reminder.

_His _past.

But as Biff and now Kurt stared at him, Puck realized that he had to answer. "Song lyrics." He knew that that didn't really answer the question, but that was all Puck was willing to give.

Not bothering to wait for a response, he dropped his eyes to the drawing on Kurt's waist.

As he tried to decide where to start, he thought about the words on his arm. His first tattoo, the mark had been a reminder of who he'd been and who he'd become. It said in simple black script, "Sweetly, turn the pages on always."

It was a deeply personal message, one that he didn't want Biff or Kurt, _especially _Kurt, to read.

Hoping that neither of them asked anymore questions, Puck pressed the buzzing needle into the tip of the K.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

As Puck's foot _finally _found the fourth floor landing, he groaned in relief.

When he'd first moved in, the fact that the five story building didn't have an elevator hadn't bothered Puck. After all, his place was on the fourth floor, and that wasn't really all that much of a hike. And for the most part, it hadn't been an issue. But there were those nights when he wasn't feeling well or was drunk or exhausted. And those nights… those nights he'd hated the old buildings lack of mechanics so much he'd been tempted to curl up on one of the landings and just sleep there.

Tonight was one of those nights.

After Kurt and Biff had left the shop, Puck had had to take two more customers before Skin Deep finally had closed at two am. Normally, the late hours didn't bother Puck, but after seeing Kurt… he'd been so worked up during the appointment that the minutes and hours after Kurt had left had worn him down instantly.

Now, at three am, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a month.

Which was exactly what he planned to do.

Heading towards his apartment, Puck rubbed at his eyes, now bleary from exhaustion. There were only a few more feet, and he would finally be home, safely tucked away in his own world. He couldn't wait to walk through the door, drop everything on the living room floor and fall into bed….

But just as Puck stuck the key in his door, his neighbor poked her head out of hers. "Heya, Noah." Sighing to himself, Puck cursed under his breath. "Late night, huh?"

"Yeah, Meena." Trying to hide his frustration, he turned towards his neighbor. But when he saw her, his frustration quickly turned to bemusement.

Meena's waist length, electric blue hair was loose and sopping wet, little droplets of water falling around the quacking duck slippers on her feet. She was wearing a short, bright pink robe that was covered in fluffy orange, purple, and blue flowers and went to the middle of her thighs. In her hands was a mug covered in crazy looking, multi-colored owls, and it was filled with what looked like lemonade.

And not for the first (or last) time, Puck thought that she looked like a box of melted crayons that had all run together.

She was the same age as Puck, and she'd already been living in the building for a few years when Puck had moved in. A few years ago, they'd gone out on a few dates but had quickly decided that they were better off as friends. There was something about her, some strange thing that Puck couldn't quite put his finger on. And because of that, he hadn't felt comfortable in a relationship with her.

"You know…." She shifted her balance to lean on the door frame, causing one of the duck slippers to quack. "I hate to say it, sweetie, but you look terrible. Kind of like that dead rat Max -"

"Yeah, I get it Meen." Puck cringed at the mental image. He figured that he looked pretty rough after the night he'd had. But being compared to a _long_dead rat? Yeah, that sucked. "Thanks."

Instead of talking to her, Puck really just wanted to say goodnight and fall into bed. But she helped him out a _lot_so he felt liked he owed her five minutes of conversation. "You look…." He eyed her, searching for something to say other than bright or colorful. "Awake." It really was the best he could come up with.

Still leaning on the doorframe, Meena snorted into her mug. "I'm on early at the bakery this morning. It's my turn to bake the apple-cranberry muffins." She took a sip of the juice, and Puck noticed the deep purple lip gloss print she left behind.

At the mention of food, Puck's stomach rumbled, causing Meena to laugh. "I'll make sure to bring you and your grumbly tumbly some home." She nodded as if the promise of baked goods was a solemn matter. And despite himself, Puck laughed.

"Thanks." Deciding that he'd spent enough time with his neighbor, Puck turned back to his door. But before turning the key, he turned back to Meena. "Oh, did you -"

"I took Max out a little while ago. So he should be fine until morning." She went to take another sip of her drink but stopped. "And I watered your plant. It was starting to droop again." Puck tried to act ashamed as she eyed him pointedly.

A wave of relief and appreciation washed over Puck as he thought about his dog not having to go out. Because if he'd had to go back down the steps and parade up and down the sidewalk until Max finished his business… Puck really would have called it a night on one of the landings. "Thanks, Meen. You are -"

"An amazing blue-haired goddess who has finally earned a tattoo from your firm but tender hands?" The question came out in one breathy, hopeful rush. When she finished, she stared at him, expectantly.

"Amazing blue-haired goddess? Yes." He smiled brilliantly (or as brilliantly as he possibly could), and she did a little royal pose. "Tattoo…." When he said the word, her eyes lit up. "You ready to tell me what you're hiding?" The first time they'd met, he could tell that there was some long-buried secret within her. And because of that, he couldn't bring himself to tattoo her unless she opened up about it.

Unfortunately, for both of them, she never had.

"Nope." Meena tried to keep her voice bright and jovial but failed.

"Well then…." Puck pushed his apartment door open. "Night."

He was about to (finally) walk through when Meena called to him again. "Hey, Noah…."

Put out, he turned back to glare at her.

"Are you ok?" She dropped her green eyes to the mug before looking back up. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Without answering, Puck walked into his apartment and shut the door behind him.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- The lyrics that Puck has tattooed on his arm are from the gorgeous Weezer song "Always."  
- Thank you all so much for your support. It means more than I can say.  
- Quack: Beta of betas. It doesn't get more awesome than you. :duck:  
- **Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
- Reviews are love.


	4. Decisions  Infected

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 4: Decisions/Infected**

_**In which a suggestion is pondered and a decision is made…**_

"_Mmmm_…." As Puck circled his bellybutton with a green Sharpie, he listened to Kurt sigh in contentment. And even though he loved hearing that sound, Puck was shocked that Kurt seemed so relaxed after last night. But he wasn't about to press the subject and risk breaking the moment. So he kept his mouth shut and kept drawing. When the swirling design was complete, Puck looked up to see Kurt's eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. The sight, so simple, caused his chest to ache. And for a few moments, Puck allowed himself to study Kurt's features.

His boyfriend didn't smolder like Santana. Nor did he possess the same innocent glow as Quinn. Kurt's features also didn't have the same sense of determination as Lauren's. But none of that bothered Puck, because Kurt's lips and nose, everything about him really, seemed to capture something else.

Something _more_.

Puck couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but it was a mixture of attitude and guts. But there was also a dash of vulnerability that Puck found irresistible.

Totally lost in his thoughts, Puck was caught off guard when Kurt opened one eye. Even though Kurt wasn't looking at him fully, there was a heavy dose accusation in his half-glare. "Why'd you stop?" He opened the other eye in order to turn the full power of his disapproval on Puck.

"I… umh…." Puck tapped the tip of the marker on Kurt's stomach, leaving a smattering of little dots on his skin. "I…." He loved Kurt, and he couldn't get enough of moments like this. But _no way _was he going to tell Kurt that. It was one thing to show Kurt how he felt, but Puck and words didn't really mix. They never had, and they probably never would.

"Wow, don't sprain anything trying to come up with an answer." Kurt's expression grew huffy, which was _never _a good sign.

In an effort to keep himself from getting kicked out of Kurt's (very comfortable) bed, Puck leaned forward and pressed his lips into Kurt's stomach. It was a simple gesture, but Puck had found that Kurt usually responded to those the best. Big gestures never seemed to impress Kurt as much as simple touches did. He was a romantic through and through.

And the hand that Puck felt on the back of his head was enough to let him know that Kurt wasn't mad.

Smiling to himself, Puck placed his chin on Kurt's stomach. Looking up at him, he said, "So, when's the rest of the family due back? Cause I am _not _ready to put my clothes back on."

Kurt snorted and moved his arm so that he could prop himself up a little. Puck groaned in protest as he shifted along with his boyfriend. "A couple of hours. Finn wanted me to go with, but I told him no. No way was I going to sit through a community production of Grease staring Rachel and Blaine."

Puck cocked an eyebrow at the mention of Blaine. Since he and Kurt had started dating, he'd rarely heard the "B" word come out of Kurt's mouth. And to be honest, Puck wasn't really sure why those two had broken up in the first place. Not that he cared. It was just weird not to know. "Cool." Relieved that he still had some time, Puck turned his attention back to Kurt's skin.

Placing the pen's felt tip against Kurt's chest, Puck began to draw again. As he did, Kurt continued to watch him. Occasionally though, he studied the other designs that Puck had already finished. "Wow, you're getting really good." Puck stopped working to look up at Kurt pointedly, "No, I mean…." The tips of Kurt's ears turned pink. "You're not covering me in smiley faces or puffy daisies anymore. This is…." Kurt ran his hand over the swirling pattern covering his stomach. "Beautiful."

Puck laughed a little. He was only doodling on Kurt's skin, because that was the only mark Kurt would allow. If it hadn't been for that, Puck never would have resorted to the Sharpies. Despite that though, he had come to love making up Kurt's skin with his designs. "Thanks." He slid the marker over Kurt's side, causing him to squirm a little.

"You should go to art school." The comment came out of nowhere, and Puck couldn't help but stare at Kurt in confusion. Kurt's eyes sparkled excitedly in the light from the lamp on the tiny bedside table. "I know you're not really interested in college…." Puck snorted at the understatement before dropping his gaze back to his drawing. He was _not_the higher learning type. Which Kurt knew. "But you're getting really good. And you could be great."

Puck didn't respond.

At all.

Despite Artie's tutoring, Puck's grades were still… low-ish. And it wasn't like he really had anything he wanted to learn more about. Sure… he enjoyed drawing on Kurt. But that was just it. He enjoyed drawing on _Kurt_. He didn't, like, go around doodling on whatever he could get his hands on. He'd seen the kids in art club at school. They always had their sketch pads out, drawing things during class or lunch, like their lives depended on it. But he wasn't like that. All Puck cared about was leaving some kind of mark on Kurt's skin.

When Puck continued to ignore Kurt, Kurt ran his hand over the back of Puck's scalp again. The gentle touch caused him to look up at his boyfriend. "Promise me you'll at least think about it?" He stared at Puck, and Puck knew he was waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, fine. Ok." Puck said the words but only to get Kurt to drop the subject. He didn't want to talk about art or college or the future. Puck was content to live in the here and now. To him, that was far more exciting than anything that could happen in the future.

Appeased, Kurt lay back down and settled into the plush covers of his bed. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Puck moved with him and began drawing again. This time it was a complex web of spirals, music notes, and words. But as he drew, the silence slowly became heavy and loaded.

After last night, there was something they both needed, _wanted_, to talk about. However, neither of them was willing to bring the subject up.

And they were both growing tense because of it.

The next few minutes passed uncomfortably, the silence weighing heavily on both of them. Puck continued to draw, but his designs were becoming stilted thanks to the tension quickly filling the room. he, however, was determined to keep his mouth shut.

Under him, Kurt was beginning to squirm and fidget, and Puck knew that it wouldn't be much longer before Kurt spoke up. When he had something to say, Kurt tended to just come out and say it. He wasn't one to keep things inside. So Puck continued to draw, practically counting the seconds.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't even make it to one hundred.

"Puck…." Soft and hesitant, Kurt's voice pulled Puck from the music note he was drawing.

"Yeah?" Puck looked up from Kurt's stomach, his eyebrows arched in silent question.

"I…." Kurt's voice trailed off uncertainly. "I want us to come out. As…." Puck watched as Kurt bit down on his lower lip. "As a couple."

It was _exactly _what Puck wanted to hear.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Puck's mouth. "Me too."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which Neosporin won't do the trick…**_

The next morning, Puck slept in.

Late.

If it hadn't been for Max snuffling in his ear, he might not have gotten out of bed at all. That wasn't because he was still tired. Instead, it was because his memories of the night before refused to leave him alone, making sleep his only refuge.

When he was awake, the memories were so vivid that it was like he was still there.

Still trying to keep his cool in front of Kurt.

And now, in the harsh light of day…

Last night seemed even worse.

Puck felt like a moron for blanking out on his job. He'd observed and given plenty of tattoos by now. He knew the process inside and one. But one look at Kurt and all of his training had gone out the window. And if that wasn't bad enough, he realized that he hated Biff even more. Drunk or not, the guy was a creep - not to mention an idiot. That, however, was nothing compared to how he felt about seeing Kurt again.

Because despite the fact that they hadn't been a couple for a _very _long time…

And despite the fact that he was still mad at Kurt for standing him up…

Seeing Kurt had been amazing. Granted, it was nothing short of traumatic. But it was amazing still. It was almost like a hole in his gut, one that he hadn't even realized was there, had been filled. It wasn't like he'd felt all warm and fuzzy or anything like that. In fact, he'd felt like his heart was being ripped out and crushed under Biff's boot heel. Despite that though, Puck had felt content and whole even as his world had come crashing down around him.

Now, Puck stood alone in his small apartment with no one but his dog for company. And even as Max looked up at Puck, the hole seemed to deepen, creating an ache so terrible that he could barely stand it. It was like he'd been shown what he was missing and what he could have, only to have it cruelly ripped away from him again.

It felt like a horrible joke, a trick. And as incredible as seeing Kurt had been, Puck wasn't sure if it was really worth it.

It hurt too much.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

After finally crawling out of bed and taking Max for a walk, Puck ran a few errands (bank, groceries, Best Buy, etc.).

As he went about depositing his pay check and squeezing loaves of bread for freshness, he wondered about Kurt and Biff and if their lives were as domestic, as adult. The stubborn part of him, the part that still clung to the last shreds of his teenage arrogance, said, "No way would Kurt Hummel be caught squeezing the Charmin." But the older, more logical part of him knew better. After all, Kurt was human, and he put his pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else.

That knowledge, however, did nothing to comfort him.

In fact, it only made him feel worse.

And as he walked through the grocery store, his mind quickly concocted a series of scenarios in which Biff and Kurt went shopping together. They were scenes of sugary happiness where Biff dutifully pushed around the cart while Kurt flitted through the aisles picking up this and that.

When Puck's brain could no longer handle that, it did something even worse….

It began to imagine that he and Kurt were still a couple and that they were out shopping together. They would take turns pushing the basket while the other grabbed the needed items. Then they would check them off a little list before tossing them in the cart. Kurt would insist on picking out the produce while Puck grabbed the proteins. Together they'd pick and choose other things, Kurt making suggestions about what could be made with what. And when they got to the pet aisle, Puck would sneak in a new toy for Max while Kurt would hide a pack of Snausages under the paper towels.

But that vision, as wonderful as it was, disappeared the moment he walked into his empty apartment.

As usual, Max came trotting out on his stumpy little legs to meet him, his tongue lolling around as he snorted and snuffled. And sitting on the counter was a bag from the bakery Meena worked at. True to her word, she'd left him some muffins when she'd stopped by to take Max out.

But despite the warm greeting and the baked goods, Puck realized that his apartment felt empty.

_Lonely._

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

When Puck walked into Skin Deep a few hours later, he headed straight to the employee/store room. He hung his jacket on the coat rack and grabbed a fresh black Sharpie to replace one of the old ones at his station. He was just about to head out into the shop when Sully came through the door.

Sully was a Vietnam vet who had managed to escape severe PTSD. Sure, he had his bad moments, and he refused to talk about his time in the war. But for the most part, he was ok. And he was the heart and soul of Skin Deep. He really was an all-around great guy.

He was a tall man with a beer belly and long black hair streaked with grey, making him look more intimidating than he really was. His arms were covered in full sleeves, making his skin look like a map of his life. The day they'd met, Puck had thought about leaving after seeing what the boss looked like. But after talking to him for five minutes, Puck realized just how wrong he'd been. And in the few years since starting as Skin Deep, Puck had come to think of Sully as a father. They'd become so close that Sully's two kids had even started calling him Uncle Noah.

"Hey there, Noah." Sully's normally jovial voice was serious. It was a tone he rarely used, and it worried Puck.

"Hey." Puck turned the marker over in his hands, unsure of what to say.

"So…." Standing in front of the door, Sully seemed to be blocking his exit purposely. "That guy last night. The one who wanted -"

"His name was Kurt." Listening to Sully trying to remind him of Kurt was torture. And even though he knew he'd said too much, he was relieved when Sully stopped staring at him. The knowing look in his boss's eye, however, unnerved him.

"Yeah, _him_." He continued to eye Puck, searching for something. "You know him, don't you?"

Puck didn't see any point in denying it. "Yeah." His eyes dropped to the marker in his hands. "Or… I _used _to anyway."

For a minute, neither of them said anything. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it _was_charged.

"He was the one, wasn't he?" Even though Sully's voice had dropped even lower, Puck felt like he was screaming at him. "The one you took time off to go see."

"I, uh…." Shocked at Sully's observation, Puck shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah. That was him."

"I've never seen you that uptight before." Sully watched him, some indefinable emotion in his clear blue eyes. "I watched you with him."

Puck tried to think of a response, but what was he supposed to say to that? He certainly wasn't about to try and explain everything that had been going through his mind since the night before. And he wasn't going to come up with some stupid lie either. He respected Sully too much for that. So rather than try to come up with something, Puck shrugged noncommittally.

"He was important to you." Puck watched as Sully walked further into the room. "Wasn't he?"

Uncomfortable with the conversation, Puck walked towards the door to the main studio. But before walking out, he looked back over his shoulder a little. "Very."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Unlike the night before, the tattoo parlor was completely empty save for one or two people who had come in. However, Sully had had Stacey, one of the most experienced members of the staff take them. And though that bothered Puck, he understood. He wasn't at her level yet. But someday he would be. Of that, unlike anything else in his life, he was certain.

After a few hours of cleaning and doing every little nitpicky task that Sully came up with, Puck was about to ask if he could take off. He was still tired from the night before, and he couldn't see any reason to stick around if there weren't any customers. There were only so many times he could sweep the studio after all.

However, the second he decided to go in search of his boss, the bell over the entrance door jingled. The tiny sound, practically caused Puck to jump out of his skin; he'd been on edge ever since his talk with Sully. It was ridiculous, but the conversation had gotten to him more than he cared to admit.

Taking an irritated breath, Puck turned back to the door, relieved to finally have something to do. But what he saw drained all of the relief right out of him.

Kurt was walking into the shop, looking around for someone or something.

And Biff was nowhere to be seen.

Puck's first instinct was to run. To turn back around and head straight to the store room like he hadn't seen Kurt at all. It wouldn't be difficult since Kurt's searching gaze hadn't found him yet. He still seemed to be scouring the empty studio (Stacey had stepped outside for a cigarette break a few minutes ago).

But even though Puck wanted to get out of there, his feet refused to move. It was like the harder his mind tried to spur him into action, to save him, the more his feet rooted him to the floor. His heart and his mind seemed to be at war with one another. And that war ruined Puck's chance of escape.

"Noah." Kurt walked toward him, purpose in his steps and uncertainty in his eyes.

Puck's mind when into hyper-drive as he desperately tried to come up with something to say. Unfortunately, all it managed to provide him with was, "Yeah?" Once the word was out, Puck felt like a complete idiot. However, he was glad that he'd managed to come up with anything at all.

Even if it did make him feel like he was back in his clueless football player days.

Kurt took a few steps closer to him, but when they were about five feet apart, Puck noticed his footsteps falter. "I need to speak with you."

Feet no longer glued to the floor, Puck straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. The movements were as much a show of anger as they were to buy for time. But once again, his brain refused to help him out. "Oh, really?"

"Ye…." Puck felt himself soften a little as Kurt's resolve seemed to slip ever so slightly. "Yes."

"Ok." Seeing Kurt's determination slip away gave Puck a boost of confidence. "What about?"

"I, umh…." Puck watched as Kurt's chest heaved with a deep, labored breath. "I…."

Puck arched his eyebrows and shook as head as if to say, 'Well?'

In response to the gesture, Kurt shot him a dirty look that brought back so many memories that Puck had to fight back a laugh. After a second, the expression faded and became resolved once again. "My tattoo." Kurt mirrored Puck's stance and crossed his own arms over his chest. "It's infected."

"What?" All pretense of anger was gone. "What do you mean it's infected?" Puck could hardly believe the question even as it came out of his mouth. He was _extremely _careful about keeping his equipment and area clean. Sully demanded it. And even if he wasn't, Puck knew that Kurt was clean to the point of paranoia. So, unless Biff had smeared mud over Kurt's hip, it simply wasn't possible that it was infected.

"What do you think I mean?" Kurt tried to sneer but failed. "It's all red around the edges and…." He looked as if he was trying to think of what else to say. The look caused a light bulb to go on over Puck's head. "And it's hot to the touch."

"Right." Absolutely positive that Kurt was lying, Puck decided to call his bluff. "Let me see it then." He motioned for Kurt to come closer to him. Kurt, however, took a step backwards as he pressed his hand nervously over his hip. "Uh… huh." Puck rubber his hand over the base of his scalp. "Thought so."

Puck wanted to throw it in Kurt's face, that he knew he was faking, but he didn't. "Try some Neosporin. I'm sure that Biff would _love _to rub it on you." Puck mentally slapped himself for the last part. He hadn't wanted to be petty or childish.

Not out loud anyway.

At the remark, Kurt's eyes flashed dangerously, and Puck could tell that he had a biting retort ready. But he wasn't about to give Kurt the chance to hurl it at him. "Look, I don't know why you're here. I also don't really care." Puck tried to tell himself that that wasn't a lie. "But I need to get back to work." Just as Puck finished speaking, Stacey came back in, a drunken redhead following behind her.

Without any explanation, the girl hung herself on Puck and pulled down the top of her green tank top to reveal large breasts. "I wan' a duck. Right -" She let go of Puck to put her hand over her heart. "Here." Her voice was slurred, and she reeked of vodka.

Normally, Puck would have called Sully over to intervene.

But not tonight.

Puck looked at Kurt pointedly and said in an expressionless tone, "Now. If you'll excuse me, I have a client." And taking the girl by the elbow, he led her to his station, forcing himself not to look back at Kurt.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- **Important:** From now on I'll be posting on Monday afternoons. Sunday nights was just too difficult. Also, since Sunday is Easter, and I'm way behind on the Eatery-ness, there won't be a chapter next week. My apologies.  
- To everyone who is following along, thank you so muchly. It's great to know that you're enjoying this. :D  
- Quack: You are beyond amazing. I'm proud to call you my friend. :duck:  
- **Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
- Reviews are love.


	5. Doo Wop Muffins

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 5: Doo Wop/Muffins**

_**In which Brittany is clingy…**_

Brittany's head was resting on Puck's shoulder, and her teased blonde hair kept getting stuck to his lips. As she snuggled even closer to him, he tried to spit out another strand. Puck knew that she was enjoying herself; after all, Brittany enjoyed _anything _that included physical contact. But Puck wanted nothing more than to push her off of him and to get out of the WMHS gym.

He felt stupid, getting _that _worked up over dancing with Brittany at the Winter Formal - especially since he'd agreed to take her. When she'd slumped up to him weepy eyed and sniffling over Santana breaking up with her, he hadn't been able to say no. It was two days before the dance, and she was broken hearted. Even he wasn't that tough. Crying girls had always gotten to him, didn't matter who it was. So he'd offered to be her date for the night.

Well… Ok. _He _hadn't really offered so much as Kurt had guilted him into it.

The day the tickets had gone on sale for the dance, they'd both agreed that they weren't really ready to come out as a couple yet. They'd only been together since the middle of September, and it was just too soon. So rather than subject themselves to crepe paper streamers and nasty punch in the gym, they'd agreed to rent a movie and eat on Kurt's couch. Mr. and Mrs. Hummel had signed up to chaperone the dance so Puck and Kurt would have the house to themselves for a change.

It promised to be a great night.

And then Mercedes had broken up with her boyfriend.

Which totally shot their plans, because Kurt "couldn't bear to see his best friend miss one of the last dances of her senior year." Personally, Puck couldn't have cared less about the dance or how many there were left before they graduated. All he cared about was Chinese takeout and the cheap horror movie that was guaranteed to have Kurt in his arms in fifteen minutes or less. Then, once Kurt had removed all space from between their bodies, he intended to take advantage of the fact that no one was home. (Which was like… _way_rare in the Hummel house.)

But no.

Kurt had had to try and be Best Friend of the Year or whatever, because he "still felt absolutely terrible about how he'd treated Mercedes last year after he'd first met Blaine." And that had somehow turned into meaning that Puck _had_to take Brittany to the dance.

Yeah, he _still _didn't understand the logic on that one. But whatever. Kurt's "logic" rarely made sense to him anyway.

So now here he was, wearing a tux he'd bought for his sister's Bat Mitzvah and dancing with a girl who seemed to be doing her best impression of cling wrap. And Puck couldn't help but think that it just wasn't fair. He'd been promised an empty house and dinner out of white cartons. What he'd ended up with was a ditzy blonde mumbling about the "sweet lady kisses" she missed.

When the terrible slow song they were dancing to finally came to an end, Puck tried to pry a reluctant Brittany off of himself. But the second she finally let go, Puck noticed Mercedes' lime green dress appear behind Brittany. He watched as she spun around into Kurt's arms. They were both smiling and laughing, and Puck couldn't take his eyes off of them.

As Puck stood transfixed by the sight, Brittany reattached herself to him. But Puck no longer cared. In fact, he was now happy to have an excuse to stay on the dance floor.

Even if it meant having the girl wiping her tears on his shoulder.

With Brittany swaying them both along to another horrible song, Puck continued to watch Kurt and Mercedes. After executing another dramatic spin that ended with a dip, Kurt pulled his best friend into his arms. Through the din of twinkling lights that practically covered the gym, Puck watched as Kurt smiled down at Mercedes. His face was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and his eyes were alive as he dipped her again.

When Kurt brought Mercedes out of the move and placed a light kiss on her cheek Puck felt a pang of jealousy in his stomach. And even though they were ten feet apart, Puck could hear Mercedes' delighted laughter perfectly.

The sound only caused the jealousy to flare up again.

It wasn't that he wanted to be the one being dipped by Kurt or anything like that. In fact, dancing meant nothing to him. All he wanted was to be curled up on Kurt's couch. But watching them dancing and laughing _together_, Puck wished that he could be that open, that free, in public with Kurt. As it was though, they'd decided that it was best to not even acknowledge one another in the halls.

No secrets glances, no discreet touches, _nothing_.

It wasn't because Puck was embarrassed about dating a guy, 'cause that was totally old news. And it wasn't that Kurt was ashamed to be dating someone who used to toss him in the dumpsters on a daily basis. (They had discussed that though, and Puck had apologized more than was really necessary.) It was just that…

When they'd first gotten together, they'd been content to have it just be _them_. They'd sort of built up their own little private world where no one could bother them. And yeah, ok, that made things hard sometimes. Like, if they wanted to go out to eat, they couldn't go to BreadstiX. Or if they wanted to go see a movie, they couldn't go to the theatre at the mall in Lima.

If they wanted to go out, they had to go to one of the neighboring towns, which could be a pain. And then there was the matter of Finn and trying to avoid him at Kurt's house. That hadn't been too big a deal though since Finn spent most of his time at Quinn's.

But despite all of the hiding and sneaking around, they'd been happy with it just being the two of them.

Now though, as Puck watched Mercedes lay her head on Kurt's shoulder, he wanted more than the little world they'd created. He wanted to be able to go out to the 'StiX with his boyfriend or make-out in the back row of the Lima theatre with him. Really, Puck just wanted…

He wanted to be able to smile at Kurt in the hall or sit with him at lunch.

And as Kurt looked up from Mercedes, his eyes shining in the twinkling lights, Puck knew that he _needed _those things more than he wanted them.

When the song finally ended, Puck managed to pry Brittany off of his chest and send her towards Mike and Artie. He knew that they would take care of her, so he wasn't worried. With her safely in their care, Puck headed out of the gym and toward his truck. It was freezing outside, and large, fluffy flakes of snow were falling steadily around him.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Puck hunched his shoulders in an effort to keep the cold from creeping down his collar. The attempt, however, was useless; the sweat that had soaked through his shirt quickly turned ice cold.

Finally reaching his truck, Puck wrenched opened the door. But before he climbed in, he heard footsteps on the gravel behind him. Figuring that it was just Brittany, he leaned into the open cab and started the motor. His hope was that it would be warm by the time he'd finished blowing the girl off. He was tired of babysitting her, and he knew that she could easily find a ride home with one of the other glee club members. He'd fulfilled his promise to Kurt and didn't feel at all guilty about ditching her.

When he turned around though, it wasn't Brittany standing there. It was Kurt.

His hair was a mess, most likely the result of Mercedes playing with it. And his cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold or dancing; Puck wasn't sure, nor did he care.

"Noah…." Kurt's face split into a smile as he moved to stand across from Puck.

For a moment, Puck didn't say anything, choosing instead to watch as the snowflakes landed on Kurt's dark hair and eyelashes. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "Hey."

"I saw you leaving." Kurt took a couple more steps forward. "Is everything alright?" His blue eyes were full on concern, and Puck could barely stand it.

"Umh… yeah." Puck swallowed thickly, trying to come up with an explanation. But nothing came to mind. So rather than say anything at all, he focused on the truck's radio. It had turned on along with the engine and heat. And from the sound of the song that was ending, it was still set to the oldies station.

It wasn't that _Puck _liked the old music, but Kurt did. He often went on and on about how music didn't get more romantic than the old standards or show tunes. It was because of him that Puck's radio was set to that station at all. "I'm fine."

Kurt sighed as he fixed his gaze on Puck. "I don't believe you." He reached out and placed his palm against Puck's cheek and Puck leaned into the touch. "What's wrong?"

Puck dropped his eyes to the ground and listened to the radio announcer's voice. "And next up we have 'In the Still of the Night' by The Five Satins. This one is for all the lovers out there…." As the song began, Puck tried to focus in on it. But it was just a soft hum of words he was sure there was no real spelling for. Deciding to tune it out, Puck looked back up at his boyfriend. In a soft whisper he said, almost apologetically, "I'm tired of hiding."

Instead of saying anything, Kurt just smiled.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which Meena is nosey…**_

Puck watched the microwave's timer, dreading the moment it finally hit zero. For some reason, he hated the sound of the buzzer dinging. He knew it was ridiculous, but that little electronic noise made his flesh crawl.

More than once, he'd thought about yanking the door open before the timer hit zero, but he refused to. Puck felt like doing that would be giving into the crazy. And _no way_was he going to let an appliance get the best of him.

Even if the tiny noise made him feel like clawing his eyeballs out.

The digital numbers on the timer slipped away until there was nowhere left to go and the unholy sound rang out through his apartment. Puck shot the microwave a dirty look even as Meena opened the door.

As she took out the plate of muffins, Puck heard Max's nails scraping over the wood floors. Apparently he'd taken the ringing microwave for his dinner bell. And when the dog stopped in the middle of the kitchen to look expectantly from Puck to Meena to the muffins, Puck noticed just how chubby the dog had become. Shaking his head, Puck thought, "That's it. No more junk food for you, dude."

"Maximus!" Meena looked down at Max, a grin on her face. She plucked a piece off one of the muffins and dropped it on the floor. Max quickly scarfed up the morsel before snuffling over the wood, lapping up stray crumbs and looking for more. When he didn't find any, he looked up at Meena and woofed. "Nope, that's it, Maxamilian." Puck rolled his eyes at Meena's insistence on coming up with nicknames for Max.

"Here…." Meena set the plate on the counter between them. She passed Puck a napkin and the muffin she'd just fed Max from. "They're a day old, but they're as good as new." She ripped the sugar crusted top off of her own muffin and stuck a piece of it in her mouth.

"Thanks." Puck pulled off the bright purple paper lining that bore the Knead It Now Bakery logo and tossed it on her plate. And ignoring Max, who was now staring up at him with pitiful eyes, Puck took a large bite of the cranberry orange muffin.

Topped with large granules of sugar and filled with chunks of fresh fruit, the muffin tasted like Heaven. It took all of his self-control not to moan in enjoyment. As it was, he let his eyes fall closed as he chewed.

"So…." Meena's voice was conspiratorial, which caused Puck's eyes to snap open suspiciously.

When Meena had barged into the apartment half an hour ago demanding that they spend time together, Puck had _known _she was up to something. Now here it was.

"Tell me about your ghost." Meena stuck another piece of her muffin in her mouth.

The large bite Puck had taken seemed to thicken and congeal in his throat instantly. The wonderful citrus and sugar flavor disappeared, and now it tasted like cardboard with a dusting of sawdust. Forcing himself to swallow the pasty mess, he said, "Ghost?" He knew exactly what she was talking about, of course. But he really didn't want to talk about Kurt.

Especially not with Meena.

"Don't act stupid." She placed her free hand, with its bright yellow nails, on the counter. "You know what I'm talking about."

Puck's eyebrows rose in response to her attitude, and she seemed to soften. Shaking back her hair, which hung in long pigtails from the top of her head, Meena took a deep breath. Looking at him again, her brown eyes were wide and sparkling. "Whoever it was you ran into the other night. That _ghost_." She batted her eyes comically. "Please? Tell me. Tell me. _Tell me_!"

His first instinct was to laugh at Meena. She was spunk and determination personified, which he normally found amusing. And he especially loved it when denying her what she wanted drove her nuts. But part of Puck, the part that had had to deal with seeing Kurt again, wanted to tell her to be lay off, that it wasn't any of her business. He wouldn't do that though. She'd been a good friend to him over the years, and she deserved better.

Tossing the uneaten half of his muffin on the plate, Puck resigned himself to his fate. And hoping that she wouldn't press for details, Puck gave her the vaguest possible answer. "It was someone I went to high school with. An old -"

"Sweetheart?" The sugary muffin top long forgotten, Meena dropped the remainder of it on the floor for Max. "Was it the mystery person who broke your heart? The one you refuse to tell me about?" Meena's eyes were alight with excitement, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The sight made him immediately regret not just answering her question but the drunken night he'd let slip just how badly Kurt had hurt him as well. Of course… most of that tirade had been alcohol-fueled ramblings, but Meena had gotten the gist nonetheless.

Someone had hurt him.

And it had been bad.

Seeing no use in denying it or in delaying the inevitable, Puck dropped his eyes to Max, who was licking the floor clean. "Yeah, actually." He didn't need to see her face to know how excited she was about his confession. Her gasp said it all.

"What's her… or his name? What do they look like? What are they like? What happened?" Meena rattled off the list of questions all in one breath. Puck didn't know how she did that, but he guessed that her nosiness outweighed her need for oxygen.

"_His _name is Kurt." Puck looked longingly at his uneaten muffin, wishing that it hadn't lost its flavor. He'd give anything for an excuse to stop talking. "And he was great." Shrugging a little, Puck thought about what an understatement that was.

If it hadn't been for Kurt's encouragement and belief in him, Puck would probably have never gotten out of Lima. Worse yet he'd most likely be sitting in jail, complaining about the waffles being chewy and the non-kosher meals.

"So…." Meena's voice pulled Puck from his thoughts, and he looked up at her. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows were arched in question.

"We tried to make it work after graduation, but it didn't happen." He watched as her face fell into a frown. That was _not _what he needed right now. Peppy Meena he could deal with. Sad Meena, when he was already stressed himself? Not so much.

"Why not?" The question was simple, but it irritated Puck. There were so many answers, none of which he wanted to give.

"I don't know." Puck pushed himself off of the stool he'd been sitting on, almost knocking it over in his anger. Max gave a snuffle and ran towards the small couch in the living room. "We were too young. Too naïve. And we just…." His chest rose and fell as he thought about the stupid promise they'd made to each other the night of graduation. "We just fell apart."

Meena nodded her head knowingly. "And you still love him."

It wasn't a question - just a simple statement of fact.

Still standing, Puck looked Meena directly in the eye. "Yeah."

"He was your first love, wasn't he?" A soft smile played at the corners of her glossy lips. Despite his anger, she still seemed curious. Her determination was amazing.

Sitting down, Puck thought back to his sophomore year. He'd been in love with Quinn, of that he was certain. And despite all of the Cheerios and pool moms he'd slept with and his long standing on again, off again relationship with Santana…

Quinn Fabray had been his first, real love.

For the longest time he'd thought he'd loved her because of the baby they'd created together. But he'd come to realize that it had nothing to do with Beth. He'd fallen in love with her long before she'd gotten pregnant.

However, that love hadn't lasted. Quinn had moved onto Sam, and oddly enough, Puck realized he couldn't have cared less. They never spoke about Beth again, and it was like the previous year had never happened.

Kurt though… Kurt he still cared about.

After all this time, it was Kurt who still made Puck's heart ache when he thought of him.

"No, he wasn't." Puck looked back to his muffin, wanting to look at anything but Meena. "But he was the first one that mattered." He felt… weak admitting that out loud, but it was the truth.

He waited in silence for her to say something, but all she did was sigh deeply.

Puck didn't quite know why, but the sound touched something deep within him. It was like… she understood. Which, no offense to Meena, surprised him. He'd never expected her to be the overly much and romantic type. She'd never even mentioned having any exes before.

Reaching into his back pocket, Puck took out his wallet. Very carefully, he pulled out an old photograph that had been hidden between a snapshot of his mom and sister from a couple of years ago and one of Max and Meena from Halloween. The picture was worn and faded, and one of the corners was creased so much that it was about to fall off. But the image it captured was still there.

After looking at it, Puck placed the photo on the counter and pushed it towards Meena. Without a word, she picked it up and began studying it.

"What's this from?" The giddy excitement was gone from her voice, and she sounded genuinely curious.

"Our senior prom." Puck didn't need to see the photo to know every last detail.

It showed the two of them in tuxedos, standing in front of the fire place in the Hummel house. They had their arms around each other. Kurt was bent forward in laughter, and Puck was looking at him like he was insane. Mr. Hummel, who had taken the picture, had just said something to Kurt that had started the laughing. But Puck couldn't remember what it was anymore.

They'd had official pictures taken when they'd gotten to the dance, but they'd turned out sterile and vacant. There was no life to them, no joy. But this shot, as silly as it was, showed just how alive and happy they'd been together.

Looking up from the photo, Meena fixed Puck with a determined glare. "You have _got _to get him back."

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- Thank you so much to those of you who continue to support this story. I truly appreciate it. :)  
- Quack: You are… amazing - beyond amazing really. Thank you so much for all of the help and support you give me. I wouldn't want to do this without you. :duck:  
- **Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
- Reviews are love.


	6. Sweaters Scared

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 6: Sweaters/Scared**

_**In which Kurt makes a decision…**_

Sitting on the small love seat in Kurt's bedroom, Puck tapped his foot on the floor in irritation. Kurt had been rushing between his closet, vanity, and bathroom for the past eighteen minutes. (Uh, yeah. Puck totally checked his watch when Kurt had started pacing.) And the constantly changing sweaters, scarves, and shoes, not to mention Kurt's fashion babble, were driving him _nuts_. It was obvious that Kurt was jittery about something, but Puck didn't have a clue as to _what _that was. But even though he could tell that there was something more important going on, it was the costume changes that were annoying Puck.

To be honest, Puck didn't get why his boyfriend was so worried about what he was wearing. Well… Ok. Puck knew _why_; Kurt always had to look just right. If he appeared anything less than perfect, he wouldn't leave the house. (Unfortunately, Puck had learned this the hard way.) But tonight, they weren't going out anywhere. It was Saturday evening, and Mr. and Mrs. Hummel had gone out for "date night," and Finn was…. Puck didn't really know where Finn was actually. He wasn't in the house, and that was all that mattered.

So Puck and Kurt were going to take advantage of the privacy and stay home and watch _Across the Universe_. Puck had never seen it, and he didn't really want to since it was a musical and all. But Kurt had said that all of the songs were by The Beatles, which seemed _kinda_ cool – tolerable at the least. Plus it was Kurt's turn to choose what they watched. And that mean that Puck didn't really have any choice but to sit back and hope that Kurt was more into _him _than the movie.

However, despite the fact that they weren't leaving the Hummel house, Kurt seemed _extra_worried about his outfit being just right. It was strange and kind of irritating, because Puck just wanted to get on with their night. He didn't care if Kurt had pinned his kilt in the traditional Scottish manner or if his scarf was knotted perfectly. He just wanted Kurt next to him on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn nearby.

So when Kurt rushed by him in yet _another_sweater with what looked like a leather tie draped over his arm, Puck couldn't take it anymore.

"_Kurt_." Puck's foot quit tapping. "What is your problem?" Puck knew it was clear that he was irritated, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that Kurt had _finally _quit his pacing.

Standing in the middle of the room, the tie still swinging back and forth, Kurt looked like a deer caught in headlights. His blue eyes were comically wide, and he looked like he was going to heave. Puck wanted to laugh, but before he could, Kurt spoke.

"No…." He looked from the tie on his arm to Puck. "Nothing." Kurt pulled the tie from its perch and practically ran to his closet to hang it up. When he turned back to Puck, his face was much more relaxed. "Nothing's wrong." Kurt's face split into a gentle, genuine smile.

"Then what's with all of _this_?" Puck gestured vaguely to Kurt and his closet.

Still smiling at Puck, Kurt let out a deep breath. "Umh…." Puck watched curiously as Kurt walked over and sat down on the seat next to him. But rather than relax into the soft cushions like Puck had, Kurt perched on the edge of the seat. Kurt's knees were touching, and his hands folded on his lap, Puck couldn't help but think he looked doll like. "Noah…." Kurt angled his body towards Puck's, the tips of his ears flushing scarlet. "I, umh…."

Watching Kurt, who was normally so composed and well spoken, stutter made Puck's heart begin to beat painfully in his chest. Whatever his boyfriend was trying to say was serious. Only things that were important made Kurt that tongue tied.

The suspense of what was going on quickly began to wear at Puck's nerves, but he didn't push Kurt to speak. Puck wanted Kurt to tell him what was on his mind on his own time. He knew that if he were to push the other boy, Kurt would just get more flustered and clam up completely.

"I think I'm ready." The blush that had started with Kurt's ears spread down to his neck.

Puck, however, didn't get what the big deal was.

"Babe, I thought you said you wanted to stay in tonight. For some, you know…." Puck quirked his eyebrow mischievously. "_Alone _time."

Kurt smiled before pressing his lips together, for once not complaining about Puck's preferred nickname. "No, Noah…." Carefully, Kurt unfolded his hands and placed one on Puck's thigh. The touch was light, barely there, but Puck couldn't stop focusing on it. "I'm _ready _to… to make love with you."

As Kurt's words sunk in, Puck felt his heart begin to beat even more furiously in his chest.

When their relationship had first started getting serious, Kurt had said that he wanted to wait awhile before they slept together. It wasn't that he was a virgin or anything like that (that ship had sailed with Blaine). But Kurt, unsurprisingly, was a romantic and wanted to wait for the right moment. Love, flowers, candles, the whole deal… Kurt wanted it all.

But as difficult as it had been, Puck had respected his wished and tried not to push. After all, it wasn't like Kurt was against getting physical altogether; they'd done pretty much everything _but_have sex. That, however, didn't mean that it had been easy for Puck to hold back. And yeah, ok, there'd been times when he'd slipped and pushed Kurt a little more than he should have.

But Puck had (miraculously enough) managed to wait.

Now that Kurt was ready though, Puck didn't know what to say.

He did, however, know what to _do_.

_That _had always come naturally to him. And now was no exception.

Leaning forward, Puck put his hands behind Kurt's head and pulled him forward. When their mouths smashed together, Puck felt a jolt of pain shoot through his bottom lip. His first instinct was to pull back, to make sure that Kurt was ok. Because if it had hurt him, then it _had _to have hurt Kurt as well.

But when he tried to break the kiss, Kurt tightened his grip on Puck's thigh. Against his mouth, Kurt whispered, "no." The word was said with enough force and clarity that Puck could feel the word being written across his lips. The sensation, forceful and determined, soothed something inside of Puck. And he felt his urgency fade to an anticipation so bittersweet it caused all of his nerves to burn uncontrollably.

It was something he'd never felt before.

Not even with Quinn.

On his thigh, Kurt's grip tightened once before pulling away. The second Kurt's fingertips slid off of his leg, Puck felt a severe loss settle into his bones that he couldn't stand. He wanted, _needed _every touch that Kurt would give him. But though he always felt that way, that feeling of need seemed intensified tenfold in that moment.

In an effort to reclaim the contact, Puck slid one of his hands away from Kurt's neck. Reaching out, he grabbed Kurt's wrist. Puck pulled, trying to bring Kurt's hand back to his leg. Kurt, however, resisted, moving his hand back towards himself.

Confused, Puck pulled his mouth away from Kurt's but only enough to break their kiss. Chest heaving, he rubbed his lips together as he tried to gather his thoughts. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was rough, like it hadn't been used in years. "What are you…. I thought…."

"Bed." Kurt's breath ghosted over Puck's moist lips. "Now." He pulled the arm Puck was holding once again.

But this time, Puck followed it willingly.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

A while later, exhausted but too wound up with emotion to sleep, Puck grabbed the marker off of Kurt's bedside table. Pulling off the cap, he rolled onto his side to face a sleeping Kurt. Puck studied Kurt's face for a moment, gently brushing a few stray strands off of his forehead.

After putting the cap on the other end of the Sharpie, Puck began to draw a sweeping design that sprawled over Kurt's ribs.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which a confession is made…**_

Puck moved through the middle of the tattoo shop, haphazardly pulling a large broom behind him. He knew he wasn't doing much good with it and that when he finished, the floor would still be a mess. But at that exact moment, he didn't really care.

After all, it wasn't like it really mattered if he got the place cleaned up or not. Pixley, the afternoon receptionist, would sweep (and possibly mop if her anxiety was acting up) again when she opened the shop tomorrow afternoon.

So his sweeping up was really just a total waste of time.

And it seemed even more pointless since it had been a _very _long night at Skin Deep, and he just wanted to go home.

Tonight, the tattoo parlor had seemed to be a hot bed of insanity….

An all-girls college cheer team (twelve girls to be exact) had come in wanting matching tattoos. Normally, Puck would have been all over a bunch of hotties in short skirts and miniscule tops bouncing around him. But this group of girls was just… Puck couldn't even come up with the proper words to describe how obnoxious they'd been.

Each had wanted a different design, and not one of them was willing to give into another. Puck had spent an hour and a half trying to come up with something that incorporated _all _of their demands. In the end, it had ended up looking like some deranged pom-pom monster covered in jewelry and wearing strappy heels and a tiara.

It was, in Puck's humble opinion, hideous.

But the girls had been unanimously (and loudly) ecstatic about it. So rather than try to dissuade them, he'd given up and went with it. They were the ones who would have to deal with it five years from now. Not him.

After getting the stencils made, Sully had had to call in some of the artists who'd had the day off to help out. There were just too many of them for the five on duty artists to handle, even with Sully's help.

Once they'd gotten through the pep squad, they'd had to deal with a girl who possessed absolutely _zero_ pain tolerance. Then there was a belligerent ex-con who had wanted a tattoo commemorating his time "in da joint." And that wasn't to mention the three drunks, one of whom had puked purple sludge all over Stacey an hour ago. (The place _still _reeked.)

As soon as it had come time to close for the night… everyone, Sully included, had run for the doors. Puck, however, was scheduled to close so he was stuck there. Was he angry about that? Yeah. But he couldn't really blame them. He'd have done the same if someone else had had to close. However, that didn't mean he wasn't bitter about it though.

Making a wide U-turn with the broom still trailing behind, Puck made his way back to the rear of the shop. He knew that the bristles weren't really picking up anything, and as he walked, Puck spotted pieces of paper and other debris in the floor. But he couldn't have cared less. Once he reached the back of the shop, that was it. He was done for the night.

Ignoring the floor, Puck continued to walk, his eyes trained on the door to the backroom like it was his salvation. After what felt like the longest few minutes of his life, Puck reached the door that would release him for the night. With relief washing over him, Puck reached out and placed his hand on the door knob.

But before he had a chance to turn it, he heard the bell above the shop's entrance tinkle evilly. As the noise died away, he couldn't help but think that he so didn't need this now.

Not bothering to turn around or even take his hand off the doorknob, Puck called out, "Sorry. We're closed." He wanted to keep going, to walk through the door to the backroom, but there was no response to what he'd said. No closing of the door as they walked out, no ring of the bell. There wasn't even an answering yell of any kind.

So even though he knew he'd regret it, Puck let go of the handle that was his freedom and turned around.

And just like he'd expected, he regretted it.

Instantly.

"Noah…." Kurt was about halfway into the shop. And even from the back wall, Puck could make out the hesitancy that seemed to be radiating off of him.

Leaning against the door, Puck crossed his arms over his chest. The broomstick was still clutched in his hand. But now, instead of feeling like a weight, it was a security blanket. "I told you. We're closed."

Kurt took a few more steps forward, and Puck wished that he could move backwards. But with the wall there, there was nowhere to go. Feeling trapped, he tightened his arms around his chest a little more as he waited to see how Kurt would respond.

"Noah." Kurt stopped moving about five feet away from him. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" Puck felt his jaw clench and anger set into his shoulders. He was tired, and now he was upset. No way was he just going to stand there like all was right with the world.

"You know what." Kurt's words came out as an angry hiss. And once again, Puck mind flashed back to his high school days and how often he'd heard Kurt speak like that. It was almost frightening to see how much Kurt _hadn't _changed. "Don't make this harder than it is." His voice had softened, and Puck could see the pleading sincerity in his eyes. "Please."

Just like old times, Kurt saying "please" was almost enough to do Puck in. That single word caused his shoulders to relax and his jaw to loosen. But Puck refused to be a slave to memories or feelings. He couldn't give in just because Kurt was… _Kurt_.

"Whatever." Puck tried to inject the word with as much indifference as possible. That, however, wasn't much. And from the look of resolve on Kurt's face, Puck could tell that he hadn't bought it.

Finally giving into the anger, stress, and heartbreak that he'd been in since coming back from Lima, Puck gave up trying to be cool. He didn't have the energy for the façade anymore. "Why are you here, Kurt?" He stared at the other man, willing him to answer honestly, no matter what the truth turned out to be.

"Biff is from around here." Kurt tried to smile but failed. "His parents' anniversary is this weekend."

Puck tried to swallow a hundred more questions that had come to mind. But as they fought for dominance, Kurt waited with apologetic eyes.

When one question finally surfaced as more important than the others, Puck dropped his eyes to the floor. "Did… did you know I was here?" Puck's heart began to beat painfully as he waited for an answer.

"No." Kurt's response came out without hesitation, and Puck shut his eyes in response. Whatever he'd expected or wanted, it wasn't that. "I mean…." Puck's head snapped up. "I remembered that you went to school around here. But I didn't…." This time it was Kurt's turn to drop his gaze to the floor. "I didn't expect to run into you. I thought you'd have moved somewhere else by now."

Puck continued to stare at Kurt, who refused to look up. After Kurt's confession, he was at a complete loss for words. Everything he'd been feeling seemed to slip away, leaving him drained of energy and emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Noah." Kurt lifted his head, and Puck could see the truth of the apology in his eyes. "If I'd have known you worked here, I'd have gone somewhere else. I should have turned around and walked out the second I saw you." Puck watched as the base of Kurt's neck began to turn red. "This wasn't fair to you."

Even though Puck had seen the words coming out of Kurt's mouth, he could barely believe them. And as they sank in, Puck realized just how wrong he'd been before.

Kurt had changed, and he'd changed a lot. Never would the boy he'd known in high school have been able to admit something like that. It was almost impossible to believe that _this _was the same person he'd dated all those years ago.

"Look…." Puck watched as Kurt seemed to struggle for what to say next. "I just wanted to apologize for everything."

Puck's eyes widened as he watched Kurt. He'd heard every word of Kurt's apology, but the only one that truly stood out was _everything_. It was just that… everything meant _everything_. But what did that _really _mean? Was Kurt apologizing for lying about the infection or for showing up with Biff? Or was he apologizing about how they'd fallen apart?

Or…

Was it possible that he was apologizing for not showing up at McKinley?

Puck wanted to yell, to demand that Kurt tell him what exactly _everything _meant. He was sick of the uncertainty, of not knowing what was going on with his life right now. But as he stared at Kurt, his sweet face a mixture of pain and regret, Puck said the first thing that came to mind. "Why didn't you show up?" Puck's voice was low, but he knew Kurt had heard him.

Across from him, Kurt sighed deeply, the sadness etching its way into his soft features. Puck watched, waiting for Kurt to say something. With each passing second of silence, Puck's heart began to beat a little harder, a little faster.

When he thought he could no longer stand it, Kurt shrugged apologetically. "I was scared." Puck's racing heart thudded to a stop before restarting with a shudder. "I'm so sorry." Puck watched Kurt hungrily as he dropped his face to the floor and rubbed at his eyes, a sure sign he was crying.

Puck didn't know what kind of answer he'd expected out of Kurt. But to hear that he hadn't shown up because he was _scared_….

He pressed his lips together angrily. "And you think I _wasn't_?" Kurt's tear-stained face snapped up to meet his, and anger began to bubble in Puck's stomach. "Do you think…." His voice trailed off, the irritation suddenly abating. As upset as he was, he just didn't have it in him to hold onto the anger anymore. Puck was too tired, physically and emotionally. "What happened to us, Kurt?"

Puck knew the answer, had known it for years, but he needed to hear it out of Kurt's mouth. Because that way, their break up would be official in a way it never had been before. And just maybe, he'd be able to find some resolution or closure so he could move on.

Taking a deep breath that almost sounded like a laugh, Kurt looked at him. Shrugging again, he said, "Life."

Nodding, Puck smiled sadly. That was it. _Life _had happened to them. "Yeah." The word was so soft that even Puck hadn't heard himself say it.

"Look…." Kurt tried to smile, and Puck watched him, wondering suddenly how _life _had faired for Kurt. "Biff wants to spend time with some friends from high school tomorrow night. And I am just… not interested." Puck snorted at the thought of Kurt hanging out with Biff's friends. (In Puck's mind, they were all polo-playing yuppies with equally ridiculous names.) "Let's… Let's get dinner to make up for my not showing up in Lima."

"But won't he care if you go out with the guy who did your tattoo?" Puck's mind went into overdrive, coming up with all of the reasons this was a bad idea. There was no way that that could end well. But part of him was desperate to spend time with Kurt, if only as old friends.

The impish smile on Kurt's face, however, shut that voice up immediately. "He thinks I'm going shopping and to the spa."

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- To everyone who is following this story, thank you so much. I appreciate the support more than I can say.  
- Quack: It doesn't get more amazing than you. Thank you for all your help. Also… HAPPY BIRTHDAY! :D  
- Reviews are love.


	7. Marked Joe's Place

**Skin Deep**  
**Chapter 7: Marked/Joe's Place**

_**In which Kurt makes a demand…**_

Puck slid his hands around Kurt's waist, relishing the feel of bare skin under his palms. Kurt's precious linen shirt, the one he'd forbidden Puck to rip any buttons off of, hung open, exposing the pale skin of his chest. It was a wonderful sight, but Kurt was still standing, leaning over Puck as he reclined on the couch. And as far as Puck was concerned open shirt or not, that _wasn't _close enough.

Puck reached out, and his hands found Kurt's hips; he squeezed, holding onto the other boy tightly. Kurt squirmed a little and chuckled - a low throaty sound that Puck could feel in the pit of his stomach, warm and tempting. Wanting to hear that sound again, Puck tightened his hands around Kurt's slim waist once more. And when Kurt laughed that same rich sound in response, Puck pulled him roughly onto his lap.

Despite the force with which Puck pulled him, Kurt fell lightly onto his legs, his knees landing on either side of Puck's hips. As he settled in, Puck swallowed deeply, his fingertips still biting into Kurt's hip bones. Puck was sure the pressure would leave bruises tomorrow, but Kurt wasn't complaining so Puck didn't let go.

They'd been together for a few weeks now, and they'd made out _plenty_ of times before. But never quite like this. In the past, Kurt had always insisted on this or that. His hair couldn't be mussed unless it was late at night. And his clothing, under _no _circumstances, could ever be torn or stretched.

_This _though…

This was different. It was raw and rough, and Puck could tell that Kurt wanted it as much as he did. Deep down, Puck knew they wouldn't go all the way tonight. (Kurt had made his feelings quite clear on that when they'd become a couple.)

But he would take _whatever _Kurt was willing to give him.

Wanting more, Puck strained his neck upward and captured Kurt's waiting mouth with his own. Their lips pressed together, and Puck parted his slightly, waiting for Kurt to respond. Kurt, however, didn't. Instead, he smiled against Puck's expectant mouth. The pressure from the simple movement against Puck's lips caused a slow burn to spread through his entire body.

Slowly, so _painfully _slowly, Kurt began to move his lips again, the smile melting into a gentle pout. But he still didn't give Puck what he wanted. Instead, Kurt began to trail small kisses over Puck's cheekbone that left a searing path in their wake.

Puck dropped his head back as Kurt continued to move down his neck. With each kiss, he leaned in closer and closer. Puck luxuriated in the attention, his hands slowly sliding up Kurt's back. Under his palms, Kurt's skin was warm. And Puck loved the way his muscles moved and stretched with every breath Kurt took.

As Kurt began moving over Puck's shoulder at the same _agonizing_ pace, Puck decided he could no longer stand it. He couldn't stand to just sit back anymore. He _needed _to act, to claim more of Kurt for himself. Digging his fingers into Kurt's shoulders, Puck pulled Kurt flush against his body. With all of space between them gone, Puck felt more grounded, more secure. But it still wasn't enough.

Clutching Kurt tightly against himself, Puck buried his face in Kurt's neck and inhaled deeply. His scent was intoxicating, a mixture of fabric softener, cologne, and something that was indefinably Kurt. As he breathed in again, Kurt lifted his head a little and sighed deeply.

His lungs full to the brim with Kurt's scent, Puck picked up where Kurt had left off. And just like Kurt had done only moments before, Puck pressed a slow, hot kiss into Kurt's throat. But unlike Kurt, Puck wasn't content to just trail kisses along Kurt's neck. Flexing his fingers over Kurt's shoulder, Puck opened his mouth and placed his teeth against the skin below Kurt's ears.

But before Puck had a chance to scrape them along the smooth skin of his neck, Kurt yanked his head away.

"Wha- babe…." The sudden loss of skin under his lips made Puck feel like his head was spinning. "What's wrong?"

"No marks." Kurt's voice was breathy, and it drew Puck's attention to his softly parted mouth.

Puck tried to focus on what Kurt had said, but all he could think to say was, "Huh?"

"You can't leave any marks." Kurt met Puck's eyes, and Puck finally realized what he was saying. "No hickeys, no scratches, no bruises…."

"But…." Puck slid his hands back down to Kurt's hips, rubbing the places his fingertips had been.

"Oh, please." Kurt squirmed in his grasp, and Puck couldn't stop himself from squeezing tighter. "I don't bruise _that _easily, Noah."

"But…." Puck shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts some more.

"No buts." Kurt's voice was firm, and whatever Puck had been about to say disappeared. "Just kiss me."

Puck didn't need to be told twice.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

No marks.

Puck wasn't allowed to leave a single blemish on Kurt's skin.

It just wasn't fair.

Why shouldn't he be allowed to leave his mark on his boyfriend? After all, Kurt had left behind a few scratches and hickeys of his own (which Puck secretly loved). And now that he was thinking clearly, Puck couldn't help but feel like Kurt was ashamed of him, of _them_. Worse yet was that it reminded him of all the pool moms he'd "serviced." They'd said the same exact thing to him because of their husbands. He couldn't leave any marks or else the jig was up. No more work. No more sex. And he'd gone along with it willingly.

But Kurt didn't have a husband or a boyfriend he was cheating on. Puck _was _the boyfriend.

So what was the problem?

Puck looked from Kurt leaning over to check his hair in the vanity mirror to the shirts that had been discarded a few minutes ago. They were in a heap on the floor, a mix of green and pink, plaid linen and faded grey cotton. His eyes moved from the clothing to his school bag, unzipped but long forgotten. The top of his history book was sticking out, and it wasn't until then that he remembered they were supposed to be studying for an upcoming test.

That didn't seem to matter anymore though - not after Kurt's announcement.

"Ok, study time." Kurt's voice pulled Puck's attention away from his bag.

Looking up, Puck took in Kurt's bare torso. It was unmarred in any way save for a freckle or two. But as stunning as the sight was, it was missing his touch. There were no lingering red marks that were sure to become bruises or scratches. Kurt's skin was pristine, and even though Puck would never tire of seeing it, it bothered him. It was like nothing had happened between them.

"Are you embarrassed about dating me?" The question was out before Puck even knew it was coming. And as Kurt stared at him in shock, Puck felt more and more ashamed. "Look, forget it. I -"

"No." Puck watched as Kurt hastily plucked his shirt off the floor. Throwing it over his shoulders, Kurt sat down on the love seat next to him. "Of course not."

Puck stared at Kurt's knees, afraid to see the expression on his face. "Well, you don't want to tell anyone about us. And you won't let me…." The words trailed off. Puck had never been big on discussing well… anything. And now he felt like he'd said too much.

"Noah…." Kurt slid closer to him, so close that their hips and knees were pressing together. Normally Puck liked the feeling of Kurt's weight against him. But now he wanted nothing more than to put some space between them. Since the love seat was so small though, there was nowhere for him to go. "Look at me, _please_."

If it hadn't been for the note of pleading in Kurt's voice, Puck would have gone on looking down. But when he did glance up, he was glad he had. Kurt was smiling at him apologetically. "After my breakup with Blaine… I'd rather keep my private life private. That's all." He reached over and took Puck's hand, and Puck found that he didn't mind the contact now. "I have no desire to end up on Jacob Ben Israel's… whatever it is he hosts."

Puck snorted. "I hear that." Feeling suddenly childish, he dropped his eyes to his shirt lying crumpled on the floor. Not letting go of Kurt's hand, Puck leaned over to pick it up. When he did, he noticed a red Sharpie sticking out of the front pocket of his bag. "I have an idea…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which Puck and Kurt catch up…**_

Joe's Place was small and kind of a dive, but the food was great, and the service was even better. Puck had worked there as a bus boy for a few months before Sully had started paying him, and he still hung out there regularly. (Not to mention the fact that it was right around the corner from his apartment building.)

Joe's featured a full bar whose tenders had the most sympathetic ears you'd ever find. The menu consisted mostly of standard bar/diner fare, burgers, wings, soup, etc. But even though you could find their menu in pretty much any diner out there, the food at Joe's was above average. Joe only hired aspiring chefs from the local culinary school, and he encouraged them to cook the food their own way. You never quite knew _what _to expect, but it was almost always good, if not great.

When Puck had arrived a few minutes ago, Debby, a tall woman with close cropped, dark hair, had seated him in one of the more secluded booths towards the back. It was tucked away but not so hidden that he couldn't still see the entrance. Puck had told Kurt to meet him there at eight o'clock, and it was now two after.

"Don't worry, Noah." Debby walked past his table, her tray laden with soup bowls. "I'm sure whoever you're waiting for will show." Puck looked up to see her smiling down at him. "Anyone would be _crazy _to stand you up." Puck tried to smile but failed.

"Thanks, Debs." In his time at Joe's, he'd become friends with most of the waitresses. Debby was one of the few who _hadn't _hit on him. And he liked her the more for it.

As the minutes ticked by, Puck felt himself grow steadily more nervous. Sitting there, waiting for Kurt to show… it was like Lima all over again. The worry, the fear, the impending sense of disappointment… it was all there, bubbling just under the surface once more.

Looking from the clock on his cell phone (it was now eight eleven) to the front door, Puck tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid. After all, Kurt wasn't really _that _late. He needed to be patient. Kurt, after all, had always enjoyed being fashionably late in order to make an entrance.

However, he couldn't shake the foreboding that was filling him.

Debby walked by again, but her confident smile had faded a little. She stopped at his table for a second, and Puck could tell that she wanted to say something. But before she got a chance to spit out whatever it was, her face split into a wide, almost knowing grin.

Confused, Puck stared at the waitress. "Wha-"

"I'm _so _sorry." Kurt slid into the booth across from Puck, and Puck realized what Debby had seen. "I had a harder time getting…." Puck noticed Kurt's eyes flicker up to Debby. "Away than I thought I would. I am so sorry."

Kurt's sudden appearance shocked Puck so much that all he could do was sit there and stare. When Kurt smiled at him, Puck realized something. Subconsciously, he'd been expecting Kurt to stand him up again. Deep down, he really hadn't expected Kurt to show. And now that he was sitting across from him, Puck didn't know what to say. He was so shocked that it didn't even occur to him to say hi.

Thankfully though, Debby jumped in and saved him.

"Hi, welcome to Joe's. My name is Debby, and I'll be your server this evening." Puck looked up at her, and from her expression, he knew she could read the relief on his face. "Can I get you something to drink while I grab your menus?"

"Beer." Puck spoke, not thinking about what he was ordering. Kurt's appearance had thrown him for a loop, and he wanted something to take the edge off. "Please."

Debby eyed him pointedly, and Puck stared at her as she made a show of turning to Kurt. "And what would you like?" Her (over) reaction left him confused and wondering what he'd done.

"I think I'll have…." Puck's attention shifted to Kurt who was looking at the bottles behind the bar. "White wine, please."

"Alright. I'll be back with those in a few minutes." Puck watched as Debby walked away.

"Noah?" Puck turned back to Kurt. "I really am sorry about being late. Biff left later than he was supposed to. Apparently he's staying overnight with his friends now. I-"

"No, it's cool." Puck knew it was rude to cut Kurt off, but he didn't want to hear any more about Biff. "So, uh, you found the place ok?" He knew it was a stupid question since Kurt had _obviously_found the restaurant. But he needed to say something, and that was the only thing that came to mind.

"Yes. I took a taxi." Kurt's face wrinkled in distaste, and Puck couldn't help but smile. "The driver knew right where to go."

"Yeah, Joe's is pretty popular around here." Puck looked toward the bar, wondering where Debby was with their drinks.

She was nowhere to be seen though, and Puck could only assume that she was grabbing the menus. Why she hadn't just brought them when he'd first arrived was beyond Puck.

"Anyway…." Kurt sounded hesitant, like he didn't know what to say. And really, Puck couldn't blame him. What _were _they supposed to talk about? Seven years apart had created a huge space between them. Puck felt like, even though they were sitting at the same table, there was a giant gap between them – one that he wasn't quite sure how to cross. "I'm sorry about how Biff acted the other night." And they were back to Biff again. Puck gave up trying to find Debby and looked back to Kurt. "He's not usually like that. He only acts that way when he -"

"Drinks!" Debby appeared at the table, her tray balanced on one open palm. It took all of Puck's restraint to keep from laughing nervously at her timing. His gaze found Kurt's, and he could see the amusement there as well. And with that, a little of the tension seemed to melt away.

After she set the beer on the table, Puck pulled it to himself and took a long swig to steady his nerves. Swallowing the bitter liquid, he set the half-empty bottle back on the dark green monogramed napkin. At the same time, Kurt took a sip of his wine, closing his eyes as he did. The expression on his face made Puck wonder if he was trying to steady his own nerves as well.

"And here are your menus." Debby slid the folded menus on the table, but Puck barely noticed. Kurt was looking at him over his glass, the corners of his mouth turning up in a soft smile. "Today's specials are…." Puck tuned her out, the sight of Kurt looking at him like _that_… like they'd never been apart… was way more important than the soup of the day. And it took his breath away. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order."

Once Debby walked away, Kurt set his glass back on the table and began to scan his menu. The loss of Kurt's smile was so jarring that Puck felt as if some bubble had burst around him. For a few seconds there he'd felt… not like he was seventeen again, but like things were right. For the first time in years, Puck felt like his life was coming together. But the moment Kurt looked away, that had disappeared.

"Like I was saying…." Kurt scanned the menu, and Puck looked down at his own. He knew it inside and out, and he already knew what he wanted, but he picked it up anyway. "I'm sorry about how Biff acted."

Biff.

_Again_.

Couldn't Kurt talk about anything else?

Eyes trained on the menu before him, Puck said, "Don't worry about it. I've dealt with _way _worse before. Trust me." He still didn't look up. But now it was because he felt Kurt's eyes on him, like he was searching for something in what he'd just said.

Puck wasn't about to give him the chance to find anything though. He wanted tonight to be…. Well, he didn't know _what_ he wanted it to be. But Puck _did _know that he didn't want it to be sly remarks or petty arguments.

Things were difficult enough as it was.

"So, what have you been up to?" The question felt weird coming out of Puck's mouth. Since graduating from high school, he'd pretty much lost track of everyone. And even though he'd had quite a few friends _then_, he didn't really miss them _now_.

This, oddly enough, was the first time he'd played catch up with anyone from school. He couldn't help but find it ironic that it was with Kurt of all people.

"Well, I'm still in New York." Puck looked up from the menu in his hands. Kurt was flipping through the pages of his, but Puck could tell he wasn't really reading them. "I work with kids, doing theatre workshops. And I'm a party planner. I'm just getting started, but I've already had a few high profile clients." Kurt pressed his lips together, and Puck remembered how he used to do that when he didn't know what to say. "That's how I met Biff, actually. He hired me to throw his brother's twenty-first birthday party."

"Party planner, huh?" Puck completely ignored the part about Biff. "That's not what I expected. Makes sense though." Tired of fooling with the menu, Puck laid it back down on the checkered table cloth. "You did an awesome job on your dad's wedding."

"What _did _you expect?" Kurt cocked his head to the side, his curiosity obvious. The sight made Puck smile.

"You on Broadway. Your name in lights." Puck shrugged as if that should have been obvious.

Kurt nodded. "I did some shows. Just small productions, though." He closed his own menu and laid it in front of himself. "But it didn't make me as happy as I thought it would." Kurt smiled at Puck sadly, and Puck nodded. "I offered to throw a cast party for one of the shows, and the rest is history."

Unsure of what to say next, Puck looked over Kurt's shoulder and caught Debby's eye. She smiled brightly and hurried over to the table, fanning herself and mouthing, "He's hot!" Puck had to purse his mouth together to keep from laughing.

"Are you two ready to order?" Debby made a show of turning to Kurt first, and Puck rolled his eyes at her. He finally figured out what her problem was before.

"Yes, I'd like the veggie burger with fresh fruit on the side. And a salad, please." Kurt smiled politely and handed his menu back to Debby. She took it from him and turned to Puck.

"The steak and baked potato." Puck looked up at Debby, and she batted her eyes innocently. "And I'll take the soup. _Please_." He handed over his menu, and Debby excused herself.

When she was out of ear shot, Puck turned his attention back to Kurt. He was sipping from his wine glass again and studying Puck. The look made him feel strangely uncomfortable, like he was being studied. "I take it you two know each other?" Puck watched as he set the glass back down.

"Oh, yeah." Suddenly, Puck felt self-conscious. Kurt was eyeing him, and there was hint of something unnamable in his eyes. "I worked here for a while before Sully started paying me. You don't get paid when you first start apprenticing. Not at Skin Deep -" Puck's cell began to chirp in his pocket. He smiled apologetically at Kurt and ignored it. "Not at Skin Deep, anyway." The phone quit ringing. Thankfully.

"Ah." Kurt nodded. "Well, it's…." Puck followed Kurt's gaze as he looked around. The place didn't look like much with its plastic table cloths and candle holders filled with wax.

"A dive." Puck laughed as Kurt's eyes widened. "But the food is great. The cooks are -" Once again, Puck's phone began to ring. "I'm sorry." He pulled it out of his pocket, prepared to shut it off.

"Sounds like someone really wants you." The comment was soft and sort of offhand, and Puck was oddly confused by it. "You should answer it."

Looking at Kurt apologetically, Puck held the phone up to his ear. It took all of the strength he possessed not go growl as he spoke. "What do you want, Meena?"

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- el_gilliath recently pointed out that Biff is the Norwegian word for steak. All I have to say is… Had I known that BEFORE I started writing this, it would have made this whole process _that_ much more amusing, lol. Thanks for pointing that out! :D  
- To each and every reader and reviewer… THANK YOU. Your support is amazing. There are some days when I couldn't do this without you. No joke.  
- Quack: You are one incredible person. I'm so glad we're friends. Thank you for everything.  
- Reviews are love.


	8. Private Pumpkin

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 8: Private/Pumpkin**

_**In which Puck surprises Kurt…**_

"I… I had a nice time tonight, Pu- I mean, _Noah_." There was a hesitancy to Kurt's voice that made Puck smile. It was rare that Kurt sounded anything less than completely confident. Puck found that he liked knowing Kurt wasn't always Mr. Self-Assured. It made him seem more human, more accessible.

Unlike like the ice queen that he usually came off as.

"Yeah, me too." Puck smiled wider. And even though it was pretty dark in the car, he knew Kurt had seen it, because his smile grew as well. "We should…" Puck gripped the steering wheel in front of himself, wondering when he'd gotten so nervous. "Do you maybe wanna…."

Next to him, Kurt laughed. It was a breathy sound that seemed to expel some tension. "I'd love to go out with you again."

This time it was Puck's turn to laugh, relief washing over him. "Awesome." Puck drummed his fingertips on the wheel as the tension flowed out of them. "Awesome."

The next few seconds were filled with awkward silence. Puck's mind raced for something to say. Wracking his brain, Puck watched Kurt's eyes flickering from his house to his lap. When Kurt looked over to him, a hint of smile on his face, Puck was taken aback. He could barely believe that he'd just gone on a date with Kurt Hummel.

Earlier that evening, they'd gone to see a movie (some horror flick that had Kurt clutching his hand) and then grabbed dinner afterwards. As far as first dates went, it had gone pretty well. (As far as Puck was concerned anyway.) They'd had a few moments of weirdness but nothing major. The worst was when they'd each tried to get the other to pick the movie, and some silence as they waited to be seated at the restaurant.

Truth be told, Puck was kind shocked by just how much he'd enjoyed spending time with Kurt.

When he'd asked Kurt out in the choir room the other day, he hadn't really expected a whole lot to come of it. Sure, he'd walked into the room with the intention of picking up where they'd left off on the Fourth of July. But now that they were parked in front of Kurt's house, their date over, Puck was surprised to find that he didn't want to say goodnight.

"Noah?" The silence that had built up melted away when Kurt spoke. His voice was soft, and he looked a little worried. This time though it didn't amuse Puck. Instead, it made him nervous.

"Yeah?" Puck felt his fingers tighten on the steering wheel again, but now it was in anticipation.

"I, umh…." Kurt dropped his eyes to his lap, which bothered Puck even more. "I had a tabloid-worthy breakup over summer, which you and the whole world know about." He laughed bitterly.

"I don't know what happened." Puck didn't know why, but he felt compelled to let Kurt know that he didn't know the reason behind his breakup with Blaine.

"You don't?" Kurt stared at him, disbelief in his blue eyes.

Puck shook his head and shrugged. "Nope. Other than Finn's party, I wasn't really around much this summer. My mom drug me to Boca Raton and then to Springfield to visit relatives. All I ever heard was that you and Blaine split." Puck shrugged again.

"Oh." Puck watched as some nameless emotion passed across Kurt's face. "Well then, I would like to keep whatever is going on between us, between us." Puck raised his eyebrows, shocked at the request. "For now anyway."

Puck stared at Kurt, unsure of how he really felt about Kurt's request, because keeping things "between us" meant hiding. And he'd never been interested in hiding anything. Even Quinn's pregnancy - he'd wanted to come right out and tell Finn about that. The only reason he hadn't was because she had asked him not to. But still, keeping his mouth shut and his distance from her had been difficult.

Now here he was again, someone asking him to keep quiet and hide the truth about what was going on.

But as Kurt looked at him, worry and hope in his blue eyes, Puck couldn't help but feel like it was worth it.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which dinner is served…**_

"Well, how's it going? Does Kurt look fantastic? Are you two flirting over breadsticks?" Meena's voice came through the cellphone's ear piece in an excited deluge. Praying that Kurt wasn't able to overhear her, Puck pressed the phone closer to his hear.

"Yes, just take care of Max like normal." Puck tried to keep his voice light and neutral. Across the table, Kurt picked up his wine glass and took another sip as he scanned the restaurant. It was obvious that he was listening in while trying to look anywhere but at Puck. Kurt had never really been a master of subtlety.

On the other end of the line, Meena laughed delightedly. "Well, I'll let you get back to your date." Puck pressed his lips together as he bit back the urge to deny that he was on a date. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He could practically see her leering over the phone.

"Don't worry, Meena. I'll be home later." Before she could say anything else, Puck hung up the phone and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. "Sorry about that." Puck's eyes flickered from Kurt to his beer. Grabbing the bottle, he took another drink, hoping to drown the nerves Meena's call had drawn up.

"That's ok. I understand being busy." Kurt placed his wine glass back down on the table but kept his fingers wrapped around the stem. "Is Meena…." He pronounced the name like he was testing it out. "Your girlfriend?"

Puck snorted as he set the beer back on the table. "No. We went out a few times, but it didn't work out. We're good friends though."

"But then…." Puck watched Kurt pull his wine glass closer, like he was anticipating needing a drink. "Who is Max?"

As Kurt looked at him, apprehension in his eyes, something clicked in Puck's mind. "He's my dog. Did you think that he's my… that I have a…." Puck couldn't bring himself to say the word "son." Kids were the _last _thing on Puck's mind. In fact, they didn't even really make the list anymore.

"Well, it has been _seven _years." Kurt took a long drink from his wine glass as his ears turned bright red. Puck didn't even bother trying to hold back his laugh.

"Here." Still chuckling, Puck reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. After opening it, he slid out the picture of Max and Meena, taking care to make sure their prom picture stayed tucked away. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to know that he still carried it in his wallet. "That's from last Halloween." Puck took a quick look at the picture before handing it over to Kurt.

In it, Meena's long hair was dyed bright orange with black streaks. (She always got _very_ excited whenever a holiday rolled around.) She had her arm around Max, and her face was frozen mid-laugh. Max, however, was looking woefully at the camera, a pumpkin hat, complete with stem and curly little vine, on his head. There was more to the costume, but Meena hadn't been able to get him to hold still long enough to put it on him. In the end, she'd had to settle for just the hat. And even that had taken _many _treats to get on him.

As Kurt took the photo from him, their fingers brushed together slightly. The touch, though shocking, felt familiar and more importantly… natural. Puck wanted to hold onto that feeling, if only for a second longer, but Kurt hastily pulled his hand away. Feeling disappointed, Puck dropped his hand back to the table.

"He, uh…." Wanting to get past the moment, Puck struggled for something to say. "He sort of came with my apartment." Puck snorted as he thought back to the day he'd gotten Max. "The day I moved in, Meena, my neighbor, brought him over and shoved him my arms." Kurt raised his head to look at him, eyebrows arched in question. "He was a puppy then." In response, Kurt mouthed the word 'ah' before looking back down. "Apparently the previous tenants had moved away and left him behind." Kurt looked up from the picture again, his face shocked. "He was there alone for a few days before the barking finally got to Meena. She took care of him until I moved in."

Kurt handed the picture back and Puck slipped it away. "Why didn't she keep him then?"

"She said that she didn't mind walking him and feeding him, but that she didn't want to be a full time puppy paramour." Puck laughed at the memory. When the chuckle died away, he noticed that Kurt's wine glass was empty. "Do you want another?" He pointed at the glass, and he started looking around for Debby.

Kurt looked momentarily confused by the sudden change of topic. "Oh, umh, yes. Please." Puck finally caught the waitress's attention and signaled that Kurt wanted a fresh drink. "And you just decided to keep him?"

"I'll be honest; I didn't want a dog at first. But I didn't have the heart to abandon him again." Puck smiled wryly when he saw Kurt's mouth fall open a little in surprise. "And now I can't imagine what my life would be like without him." Puck immediately knew that he'd said the wrong thing.

The easiness that had developed between them suddenly disappeared. And the tension that took its place was so palpable that Puck was sure he could cut it with a knife.

Debby swept over with her tray. "Ok, here you are." She whisked the empty glass away before replacing it with a fresh one. "Your meal will be out shortly."

"Thank you." Kurt tried to smile at the waitress, but Puck could see the strain in it. "Does… does Meena still help you look after Max?" Puck could tell that Kurt was trying to recapture what they'd just lost.

"Yep." Puck took another drink, trying to swallow the weirdness that had developed between them. "I work at night mostly, and she usually works days. So she takes him out at night and makes sure he has dinner and stuff."

"Wow, sounds like she does a lot for you." Kurt wouldn't meet Puck's eyes when he spoke. And Puck couldn't help but feel like he'd picked up on some bitterness in his tone. It was strange.

"Yeah, she does. I mean, the only reason my plant hasn't bit it is because of her." Puck studied Kurt, looking for… _something_. From what he could see, Kurt's jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck unmoving. So Puck decided to push a little more. "Plus she keeps me from OD'ing on Eggos." Puck wasn't sure why, but he couldn't stop himself from going on about Meena.

It wasn't that he _wanted _to extoll her virtues. But the more he did, the more upset Kurt seemed to get. It was like Kurt was jealous of her, like he still cared about Puck. And the thought that Kurt could still care for him, despite Biff, caused Puck's heart to beat painfully. "She even -"

"Sorry about the wait." As Debby interrupted, Puck noticed Kurt's face relax, the tension melting away. "We're a little backed up tonight." She placed Kurt's plate on the table first, smiling at him reassuringly. When she turned to Puck, his steak in hand, there was an accusatory question on her face. It very clearly said, "_What _did you do?"

He wanted to answer, but with Kurt there, he could do little more than smile and say thank you.

"Is there anything else I can get you two?" She hugged the empty tray to her chest.

Together Puck and Kurt said no, that they were fine, and she went on her way.

For the next few minutes, they were silent. While Puck poured some A1 sauce on his steak, he watched Kurt out of the corner of his eye. The weirdness from before was gone. He seemed more at ease now as he pulled a slice of pickle off of his burger.

"So, a veggie burger, huh?" The question was pointless; he'd only asked it to get Kurt talking again. "You a vegetarian now?"

Kurt looked up from his plate, licking the pickle juice off his fingers. "Of course not." Puck raised his eyebrows in silent question. "It was the only thing on the menu that didn't sound like it would kill me in five minutes."

"Well, I'm sure we could fix that." Puck cut a chunk off his steak and stabbed it with his fork. "I know, for a fact, that the chefs will happily put bacon on anything if you ask them." He stuck the piece of meat in his mouth and began to chew.

Kurt parted his lips, a retort obviously on the tip of his tongue. Puck paused before swallowing, anticipating whatever Kurt would hurl at him. But it never came. Instead, Kurt closed his mouth and shook his head while rolling his eyes.

The rest of dinner passed easily enough. Eventually they managed to find an easy truce filled with polite small talk, both taking care not to bring up their past. And after finishing their meals, Debby surprised them with a slice of Joe's infamous "Chocolate Coma" seven-layer cake, courtesy of Joe himself.

At first, one slice of cake with two forks had seemed too intimate, and neither of them had known what to do. But after a few minutes of staring at the cake, Puck picked up his fork and dug in.

Kurt did the same shortly after.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Here, let me call you a cab." Puck stuck his arm out to hail a taxi. He'd have offered to drive Kurt back to his hotel, but he'd walked to the restaurant. Joe's was right around the corner from Puck's apartment building.

"No…." Kurt reached out and pulled gently on Puck's arm. Shocked by the touch, he turned to look at Kurt. "I'm not ready to go back to the hotel yet." Kurt's eyes were shining in the light from the lamppost, and he looked so… open. It was like there was nothing between them anymore.

No time.

No hurt feelings.

No Biff.

It was incredible.

Deep down though, Puck knew that no matter what, those obstacles were still there, still between them. Time _had _passed, and feelings had been damaged in the process. The biggest problem, however, was Biff. Biff was still Kurt's boyfriend. He was still in the picture, very much separating them.

"Umh…." Puck stared at Kurt. Silently he willed himself not to encourage anything, to just send Kurt on his way. But he couldn't. "What do you want to do?" Even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew they were a mistake. No matter what Meena thought, this would end badly.

"Could I meet Max?" Kurt's eyes were hopeful, and Puck couldn't say no.

"Sure." Puck smiled as he tried to tell himself that he wasn't about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life. "I live right around the corner…."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Puck shoved his key into the lock on his apartment door. His entire body was humming, jittery electricity filling him. Clutching the key, he came up with a plan. He would invite Kurt inside, introduce him to Max, and then offer to make coffee. Then they would do a little more catching up before saying goodnight. That was it. _Nothing _else. Period. Taking a deep breath, Puck told himself that his plan was foolproof, that he could handle it.

Clinging to what little resolve he'd managed to muster up, Puck turned to Kurt before opening the door. He'd expected to find Kurt waiting patiently, maybe even smiling in anticipation of meeting Max.

What he didn't expect to see was Kurt staring at him, desperation in his eyes. "Noah…." He took a step closer to Puck, and Puck felt himself tense up. "I've missed you." Puck tried to will himself to move, to break the moment. But Kurt was so close that Puck could feel his breath on his skin.

And it was… intoxicating.

"So much." Kurt slid his hand around the back of Puck's head. The touch was so familiar and so natural that Puck couldn't resist. He'd longed to feel Kurt's touch again for years. And now that he had it, it was like a drug. When Kurt pulled him forward to press their mouths together, he didn't even bother trying to resist.

The kiss, gentle and hesitant, was like coming home to Puck. And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right. Kurt was back, and Puck never wanted to let go of him.

Claiming Kurt's mouth with his own, Puck reached out and grabbed Kurt's hips. Not caring about bruises or being gentle, Puck pulled Kurt roughly towards his body. Kurt came willingly, sliding his arms around Puck's neck as he did.

The fact that they were still in the hallway was forgotten as Puck turned Kurt towards the wall. Puck pressed Kurt up against the wall, their bodies flush against one another. Kneading his hips, Puck pulled his mouth away from Kurt's. Kurt whimpered softly, arching his chest against Puck's. It was clear what he wanted, what he was _demanding_, but Puck needed to know something first….

Pressing a hot kiss just below Kurt's ear, Puck let his lips linger on Kurt's warm skin. Puck drank in the sounds of Kurt's labored breathing for a second before whispering into his ear. "Your shoulder…." He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to give up and give Kurt exactly what they both wanted then and there. "The tattoo…"

Kurt arched his back again, and Puck pressed him back into the wall. "Is it…." Puck licked his lips, trying to find the right words. "Are they the lyrics I…."

Kurt quit moving against Puck, his body completely still. The sudden lack of movement made Puck pull back slightly. He hated the loss of contact, but he needed to see Kurt's face.

The look he found there shocked him.

Kurt's cheeks were flushed pink, and his lips were dark red, but that wasn't what got to Puck. No, it was the look of complete openness in his clear eyes. It was like he'd stripped and laid himself completely bare for Puck at that moment.

Unable to stand it, Puck turned his face away. He didn't feel like he was worthy of seeing Kurt like that. It was too much. Kurt, however, slid his hand away from Puck's neck and used it to turn his face back.

When their eyes met, Kurt nodded and said, "Yes."

At the sound of that one word, Puck felt something inside of him break. And at that moment he knew, no matter what, Kurt would _always _be the one for him.

Taking a deep breath, he kissed Kurt once again and together they stumbled into the apartment.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- **Important:** My beta is in the middle of moving so there won't be a new chapter next week. Sorry!  
- To everyone who has supported me on this journey, thank you. Thank you so much. :)  
- Quack: Thank you for your time and dedication.  
- Reviews are love.


	9. Always Realization

**Skin Deep  
****Chapter 9: Always/Realization**

_**In which Puck plays the piano…**_

First day of senior year was done, over with. And Puck couldn't help but feel a little weird about that. Like, soon this would all be over, and he'd be _free_. Free to wake up whenever he wanted, and do whatever he wanted without having to worry about homework or detentions. But the feeling of nostalgia didn't last long.

Puck, after all, wasn't really one to get all introspective about things. He was a live-in-the-moment, act-now-think-later-kinda guy. The end of senior year would come, and he would deal with it when it did.

Until that day arrived though, he fully intended to carpe the diem as much as possible. And he knew just where he was going to start….

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Puck stood in the doorway of the choir room. Kurt was sitting at the piano, picking out notes, and matching his voice to them. Each key climbed a step higher, and he would mimic it perfectly, his clear tone ringing through the air.

Stepping into the room, Puck thought about all of the times he'd listened to Kurt sing. The kid was… _amazing_. Sure, Rachel was great and all, but Kurt… there was just something incredible about his singing. It was like he _lived _the song he was performing. He didn't just put on some show face for every performance like Rachel did. He became that song completely. Puck knew how stupid that sounded, but it was the truth. And he'd always loved that about Kurt's singing.

A few feet behind Kurt, Puck stopped. He hated to interrupt, but he'd come with a purpose. And that far outweighed his desire to listen to Kurt sing. He knew he'd have plenty of opportunities to listen to him perform in glee club. This, however, he only had one shot at.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the piano and slid onto the bench next to Kurt. At first, Kurt didn't acknowledge his presence, choosing to finish his note instead. But that didn't bother Puck, because it gave him a few more seconds to plan. (Which he hadn't done at all before now.)

As the last of the high C finally died away, Kurt turned to Puck. His eyes were wide with curiosity. "Puckerman. To what do I owe the pleasure?" The question could easily have been filled with sarcasm, but Puck was pleased to find that it wasn't. But that didn't make him any less nervous.

For a second, Puck just stared at him. The last time they'd seen each other was at Finn's Fourth of July party. And even though it was only a couple of months later, Kurt looked older, more mature. Granted, he still looked younger than most freshmen but still. The change was noticeable.

"I was just…." Puck's voice trailed off uncertainly. He had absolutely no idea what to say. "Huh…." He dropped his eyes to the black and white piano keys in front of him. Buying for time, he tentatively reached out and pressed a few of them down. The room was filled with a random assortment of sound that seemed blasphemous compared to what Kurt had been doing. But when he looked over and found Kurt smiling at him patiently, he knew what he had to do.

Sliding forward on the bench a little, Puck poised both of his hands over the piano. This time though, when he began to play, he wasn't nervous at all. The song that he'd chosen was soft and light. And while it was the first thing that had come to mind, he also hoped that it would make Kurt want to pick up where they'd left off at the party.

"Always, sing your love to me softly." Puck made sure to keep his voice gentle to match the music. "Sweetly, turn the pages on always." His fingers still moving over the keys, Puck tried to look at Kurt out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to turn and look at him, but Puck was afraid that if he did, he'd lose his nerve. From what he could see though, Kurt was still watching at him and smiling slightly.

"In the night, I was born, lived a new summer morn'." Puck closed his eyes, wishing he knew what Kurt was thinking. "Always, sing your love, co-"

Before Puck knew what was happening, Kurt's lips were on his, and his palm was against his cheek. Relishing the feel of Kurt kissing him, Puck forgot about the song. His fingers abandoned the piano keys in favor of cupping Kurt's face. Under his hands, Kurt's skin was smooth to the touch, just like Puck had thought it would be.

Stroking his thumbs over Kurt's cheekbones, Puck was content to feel and explore. He returned Kurt's kiss, applying just enough pressure to barely feel their mouths grace one another once, twice, before pulling away.

When their lips parted, Puck lingered for a moment before opening his eyes. Against his cheek, Kurt mimicked Puck's earlier movements by running his thumb over his skin. The faint touch caused Puck to smile, and Kurt laughed breathily. Opening his eyes, Puck said, "I have been waiting _months _to do that." He slid his hands away from Kurt's face. For just a moment he let his fingers linger at the base of Kurt's skull before pulling away.

Kurt's eyes pointedly flickered down to Puck's lips as he pulled his own hand away. "Well…." Puck watched hungrily as he rubbed his lips together. And Puck imagined it was because Kurt was trying to remember the feel of the kiss. "I didn't tell you before, but I think you could use some practice." Puck's mouth fell open in shock, and Kurt chuckled mischievously. "And it's lucky for you that my evenings are free for tutoring." The offer came out sounding matter-of-fact, but Puck knew that that wasn't the case at all. He could see the truth of what Kurt was saying in his sparkling eyes.

"Ok, then…." Puck pretended to consider the offer, and Kurt arched one eyebrow. "We better get to work on that as soon as possible. How about Friday night?" He tried to bite back the smile as if the thought of being tutored was terrible. He, however, had never been that successful at hiding his feelings.

Without responding, Kurt slid off the bench and picked up his school bag. Before walking out of the choir room, he looked down at Puck and said, "Let me check my calendar. I'll get back to you tomorrow."

As he disappeared from the room, Puck sat at the piano feeling positive that his life would never be the same again.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which morning has broken…**_

Before Puck even opened his eyes the next morning, he felt a searing pain shoot through his gut.

Last night had been… _amazing_.

Absolutely perfect.

And despite all of the time that had passed, being with Kurt again… it had felt like they'd never been apart. Not even for a day.

Their bodies had still fit together perfectly, each a compliment to the other. It was almost like two halves of a whole that had finally been put back together again. Each and every line and curve and jagged edge they possessed had fit together perfectly.

For a time, they were one, not a single space between them. For hours, fingers had retraced old paths and gentle kisses had brought back old memories…

Memories of movie dates and senseless fights, hiding from the glee club and talking late into the night.

Puck had been reminded of what they'd been while being shown what they could be now.

And he'd wanted it all.

As they lay together afterward, curled tightly against one another, Puck had felt content and fulfilled. He'd pulled Kurt even closer and pressed his lips against Kurt's hair and thought to himself, "This is _it_. This is what it means to be happy. Great job, a dog, and Kurt. That's all I need in life." At that moment, everything had seemed so simple. He'd drifted off to sleep thinking about the future. He'd wondered if Kurt would move to California or if he could find a cheap apartment in New York that allowed pets.

A couple of hours later, Puck had woken up to find Kurt disentangling himself from his arms. At first, Puck had thought that Kurt was just trying to get more comfortable. But when he'd opened his eyes to find Kurt slipping his jeans back on, his eyes had snapped open. "What's going on?" Even though he'd been fast asleep, Puck had found that he was completely awake and alert.

Kurt had zipped up his pants before looking over at him. "I have to go." Puck had watched as he'd bent over and picked up his shirt. Puck had felt confused but also slightly sick by what he was seeing.

"What?" He'd sat up and flicked on the bedside table, hoping that that would make things clearer. It had been a ridiculous thought, but at the moment, he'd been desperate.

"I need to get back to the hotel before Biff." Kurt had thrown on his shirt and started rooting around for his shoes. And for some reason, Puck had been shocked that Kurt didn't stop to do up the buttons. Kurt had always been a stickler for making sure that buttons, laces, ties, whatever he was wearing, was done up properly.

For the third time, Puck had said, "What?" He'd rolled over to the side of the bed, trying to figure out what was going on. "But… I thought that we…." Despite what had happened the night before though, he'd suddenly felt self-conscious about being naked. He'd pulled the white sheet around his waist, trying to hide the fact that he was bare.

"That we what?" Kurt had finally stopped searching for his clothes and turned to him. "That we were back together?" He'd stared at Puck, his face twisted in shock and confusion. Puck couldn't help but notice that Kurt's eyes flickered from sheet he'd pulled around himself like a shroud.

Puck hadn't been able to respond.

"Noah…." Kurt had stepped towards Puck, reaching out like he wanted to touch him. But at the last second, he'd pulled his hand back. "I have my business in New York." He'd closed his eyes tightly before looking at Puck again. "And a boyfriend that I've been with for _two years_. I'm sorry, but I can't…."

"You can't?" The words had come out sounding dazed.

"No, I _can't_." Kurt's face had fallen like he felt sorry or upset or… something. "Noah, I have a life." He'd stared at Puck, and Puck had been able to tell that Kurt had wanted to say more.

However, Puck had gotten up and walked into the bathroom before he could, making sure that the sheet went with him. And even as he'd disappeared into the small room, he'd felt like a coward for running away. But seeing Kurt searching for his clothes like the night they'd shared at had been a dirty one night stand…

He hadn't been able to stand it.

And anything, even hiding, had seemed better than staying in the bedroom while Kurt gathered his things.

He'd sat in there until he'd heard the apartment door open and close ten minutes later.

Now, he was lying in bed, the sunlight shining in through the window. And even though the light washing over his bare skin was warm, he felt cold, alone.

Worse yet was that not only did he feel alone, he _was_alone.

A few days ago, being by himself hadn't bothered him. He'd dated casually, bringing someone home every once in a while. And when he didn't have someone over for the night, Puck had had Max and Meena to keep him company.

But now that Kurt had been there, in his bed….

It was painfully obvious just how lonely he really was.

Even without opening his eyes, Puck could still feel Kurt's presence in his apartment. His scent was all over the sheets and pillows. And Puck knew that if he was to walk into the living room, the end table they'd knocked over would still be lying on its side. Those little things made Puck feel like…

In just a few hours, Kurt had managed to seep back into his life, filling up all of the cracks he hadn't even known were there.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Puck sat at the kitchen counter, pressing his cellphone to his ear. "Come on…." He tapped his foot on the floor in irritation. "Pick up. Pick up. Pi- Abs! Hey." Puck's foot suddenly stopped. "Is mom there?"

After crawling out of bed, Puck had taken a long hot shower. But the longer he'd stayed in and the cleaner he became, the dirtier Puck had felt.

He'd been down this road years ago, and he had a ten year old daughter out there somewhere because of it. And after the whole Finn/Quinn/Baby disaster, he'd sworn he would never cheat on or with someone again. He'd even told Rachel that when she'd tried to use him to get back at Finn.

He'd lost his best friend and gotten Quinn pregnant because of his hormones, and it hadn't been worth it.

Now here he was…

Feeling sick and ashamed because he'd unwittingly cheated with Kurt.

But he'd thought, _really _thought that Kurt had come back to him. And that even though he'd talked so much about Biff, Kurt had changed his mind about being with him.

In retrospect, it seemed so naïve, but Puck had honestly believed they were a couple again the second Kurt had kissed him.

And as he'd showered, Puck couldn't help but think about how stupid he'd been.

Now, a few hours later, he was on the phone, wishing his mom was home. He tried to make a point of calling her once a week, but this wasn't his weekly call to ask how she was. No, this time Puck was calling, because he _needed_his mom. It had been years since he'd really needed her for anything, but now he did.

Clutching the cell to his ear, he waited for his sister to respond. Normally, he didn't mind chatting with her a little, but he wasn't in the mood right now. "Abby?"

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on. I'm getting her." Abby sounded distracted, but Puck could hear her walking through the house. Next thing he knew, she was mumbling something Puck couldn't make out and then the phone was being handed over.

"Noah, _baby_, what's wrong?" Through the earpiece, Puck's mom's voice sounded worried. Abby had obviously realized that something wasn't right.

"Hey, Ma." Puck swallowed deeply. Now that she was on the phone, he didn't know what to say. "I, uh…."

"Yes?" The word came out gently, but he knew she was trying to move him along.

"I…." Putting his forehead in his hand, Puck sighed heavily. "I totally screwed up."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Door's open!" Puck came out of the bathroom just as Meena walked in, Max following on his leash. Puck set down the box he was holding and placed his hands on his hips.

"So what's so important that you…." Meena stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes taking in the boxes Puck had left on the floor. "Noah! What's going on?"

Puck had known she'd be upset, and he'd planned out a speech for her and everything. But when he saw her stricken face, it all went out the window. All he could say was, "I'm moving, Meena."

"But…. What…." As he watched her, Puck felt like he could practically see her mind racing. "Why…. I thought…."

"I just," Puck's voice trailed off, and he dropped his hands. "I need to get out of here."

"I don't understand." Max was straining against his leash in an effort to get to Puck. When it finally slipped from her grip, Puck called the dog over.

"I really…." He gave Max's head a scratch, and he struggled to find the right thing to say. "I need to go." He knew he was repeating himself, but there was nothing else to say. He couldn't tell her that now Kurt had been in his apartment that it was like his ghost was lingering there now. Or how, every time he turned around, he felt Kurt's presence or smelled his scent. And he certainly couldn't tell her that those things were eating him alive.

"Noah…." A tear began to slide down Meena's cheek, and Puck felt himself cringe. He'd never been good in the face of tears. "Did I do something?"

Unhooking the leash from Max's collar, Puck scratched him once more before straightening up. The dog appeased, Puck tossed the leash on the couch. "Come 'ere." He reached out his arms and pulled his friend close. She didn't resist, instead, wrapping her arms around his stomach and crying into his chest. "I just need to go, Meen."

Meena snuffled and wiped her nose on Puck's shirt before looking up at him. "If…." Her chest heaved a tiny sob. "If I tell you my story will you stay? You won't even have to give me a tattoo." Her eyes were pleading, but he couldn't let that get to him.

Squeezing her more tightly, Puck shook his head. "No." Once again, her chest heaved against his. "But I need your help, ok?" Before she responded, he knew what she'd say. Meena had always helped him out, never asking for anything in return. So he felt terrible about asking for such a huge favor from her.

"Yeah, of course." She snuffled her nose as she pulled away. "What do you need?" Meena managed a watery smile.

"Well, I'm leaving tomorrow. I talked to Sully, and he understands. I'm gonna have to pay on my lease but whatever." Puck shrugged. "So I'm only packing up essentials right now. Whatever I can fit in the trunk and the backseat of my car."

"But what about the rest of your stuff?" Meena wiped at her eyes as she looked around the apartment.

"Well…." Puck slid his hands into his back pockets and dipped his head sheepishly. "Like I said, I'm only taking the important stuff right now." He dropped his head a little more. "So I was wondering if you could help me pack everything. And then… ship the rest of the stuff to me… when I get there…." He felt awful asking, but it was the only way he could be out by tomorrow.

Meena stared at him, her face strangely blank. And Puck wondered if maybe he'd finally asked too much of her. When she parted her purple lips to speak, Puck held his breath. "Why are you running away? Is it because of Kurt?"

Her question sunk into his bones.

When he'd been on the phone with his mom earlier, he'd told her everything that had happened since Kurt had stood him up in Lima. Granted, he'd skipped over some of the gorier details, but she'd gotten the gist of it. And while she'd listened, she'd sat quietly, not interrupting once. But when he'd finished the story, she'd asked him, "Have you been living for this reunion for the past seven years?"

The question had hit him squarely in the gut and taken his breath away. It had taken a few moments before he'd been able to mutter, "Yeah."

Looking at Meena, Puck smiled sadly. "I'm not running from Kurt. I'm running toward myself."

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- the song lyrics are from the beautiful Weezer song "Always."  
- Thank you all for being so very patient and for sticking with this story. I'm so thankful for the support.  
- Quack: Thank you for your continued support.  
- Reviews are love.


	10. Fireworks Decisions

**Skin Deep**  
**Chapter 10: Fireworks/Decisions**

_**In which the colors light up the sky…**_

Puck leaned on the hood of his truck, taking a long swig of the beer in his hands. He'd been carrying the same bottle around most of the night, and now the bitter liquid was warm as it slid down his throat. Part of him wanted to spit it out, but he didn't. He'd drank _way _worse tasting stuff than warm beer before. So he certainly wasn't about to let this one get the best of him.

Looking down at the bottle in his hands, Puck listened to the party that was going on in the Hummel's backyard. The radio was blasting some old rock song, and Finn and some of the other guys were singing along. Santana was shrieking something at someone (most likely Rachel) in Spanish. Her words were slurred so Puck knew she was drunk. And from the sound of it, the other girls were trying to calm her down. Normally, he'd like to have seen Santana all worked up, perfecting her harpy routine.

But tonight… he just wasn't feeling it.

It was the Fourth of July, the last before his senior year, and he'd sought refuge on the driveway.

Granted, he could still hear all of the chaos of Finn and Kurt's bash. But standing in the front yard, beer in hand and lightening bugs surrounding him, Puck felt like he was in another world.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out there, but dusk began to fall around him quickly. It was a sign that the fireworks would be starting soon. And according to Finn, there would be a great view of them from the backyard. Puck didn't really care though. He was content to stay where he was.

Looking up at the sky and lost in his thoughts, Puck didn't hear Kurt approaching. It wasn't until the other boy spoke that Puck realized he wasn't alone. "Didn't expect to find you here, Puckerman. I'm surprised you aren't out back taking bets on the mud wrestling."

"Huh… mud?" Puck tore his gaze away from the sky to stare at Kurt. "Is that what Santana's yelling about?"

"Yes, actually." Puck watched as Kurt wrinkled up his nose in response. "I walked in the house for a moment, and when I came out, Sam was offering to hose her down. He had out my dad's hose and everything."

Puck couldn't help but laugh at the picture that had just formed in his mind. It was no wonder Santana was screaming her head off. "So what are you doing out here?" He raised his eyebrows at Kurt. "This is your party. Shouldn't you be playing like… Host of the Year or whatever?"

"No, it isn't mine." Kurt came over to lean on the truck next to him, a barely touched wine cooler in his hand. "This monstrosity is all Finn's doing." Puck was surprised by the amount of bitterness in Kurt's voice. "After breaking up with Blaine, I wanted nothing more than to spend a quiet evening alone. My dad, however, wouldn't let Finn throw a party unless I promised to be there and help out." Kurt raised his drink in a mock toast. "So here I am."

"Ah." Puck nodded. He'd heard that Kurt and Blaine had split up, but he hadn't heard why.

The day after school let out in May, his mom had dragged him and his sister off to Florida to visit her parents. After that she wanted to go to Illinois to visit some other family members he'd never heard of. The only reason he was in town for Finn's party was because he'd refused to go anywhere else unless he could come home for the Fourth. It was his last summer before senior year, and he didn't want to miss out on _everything_.

So even though he'd received a bunch of texts about Kurt's breakup, each containing a different story, he didn't really know what had happened. And from the look on Kurt's face, Kurt didn't want to talk about it, which was just fine with Puck. "So…." He stared at Kurt, trying to think of something to say. "What are you doing out here?"

Puck watched as Kurt's eyes flickered from the hardly touched bottle in his hands to his house. "I was making my exit for the evening. I put in my appearance, and I was headed inside for some peace and quiet." At that moment, Santana screamed, and Sam hooted in amusement. "Well, peace anyway."

As Santana continued to howl, Puck and Kurt fell silent. But oddly enough, it wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, this was the most at ease Puck had felt in a long time. Night was upon them now, and there was a cool breeze. Not cold enough to make them shiver, but enough to take the edge off the summer's sun. It was a wonderful evening, and Puck realized that he didn't want to be anywhere else or _with _anyone else.

Feeling content, Puck raised the beer bottle to his lips and finished off the rest of the warm liquid. Once it was empty, he tossed the empty bottle into the bed of his truck where it landed with a clink. Kurt shifted closer to him, and Puck looked over. His eyes were trained on his own drink, but now they were so close that their shoulders were practically touching.

After a few more seconds of staring at the silvery label, Kurt whispered. "I don't even know why I have this. I don't like -"

"Here." Puck held out his hand for the bottle, and Kurt gave it to him. Now that he was holding it, Puck could see that Kurt hadn't even taken a sip of the peach-flavored alcohol. "It's no big deal." He lowered the bottle and poured it out on the ground before tossing it with his. (Even he wouldn't have drunk _that_.)

"Thank you." Kurt's voice was soft, and Puck couldn't help but look at him. There was a curious expression on his face, and his eyes were glowing in the moonlight. "So, umh… why aren't you in the back with everyone else? Lauren is there."

Puck wanted to look away from Kurt, but he couldn't. He was captivated by the mysterious expression on Kurt's face. "We broke up the last day of school. She didn't want to be tied to one guy over summer." The look on Kurt's face turned to amused confusion, and Puck shrugged.

"That doesn't explain why you're out here, though." Kurt's expression became unreadable once again.

Puck took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't really know _why _he was out front instead of helping Sam hose Santana down. All he knew was that he'd needed to get away from the screaming and people running around. For some reason, being in the backyard with everyone had made Puck feel claustrophobic. "Just needed some space, I guess."

It was totally dark by now, and Puck couldn't read Kurt's face when he spoke. "Well, I'll leave you to it then."

Overhead, a huge firework exploded, a bright flash of red and purple in the night sky. But Puck wasn't interested, because Kurt had moved away from the truck. And even though Puck couldn't totally see him, he knew that Kurt was getting ready to walk inside, leaving him alone.

Which Puck realized, was the last thing he wanted to be right now.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Puck reached out and grabbed Kurt's wrist. Spinning him around, Puck pressed his mouth against Kurt's. It was hesitant and questioning, and for one delicious moment, Kurt lingered. But just as another burst of color exploded above them, he pulled away.

"What are you doing?" Kurt's voice sounded shocked but breathy. "I'm not some drunken experiment, Puckerman."

"No, I…." Puck held onto Kurt's wrist, but his grip was loose. Kurt could have pulled away whenever he wanted, but he didn't. "I'm not drunk. I only had the one beer. And it takes _way _more than that to get me hammered."

"Then what was _that _about?" Kurt's tone had softened, but Puck could tell that he was still upset.

"I don't know. I didn't want you to leave." The sky continued to light up with colorful explosions. "And, I just… dude, I don't know." Flustered, Puck dropped Kurt's wrist. He expected Kurt to run inside, but he stayed put.

"So what… you decided that it might be fun to try kissing a _dude _for a change?" He stepped closer to Puck. Close enough that he was able to make out the confusion in his eyes as a rain of green and silver lit up the night.

"Hummel, you are _not _the first guy I've kissed." Puck laughed as Kurt's mouth fell open in shock.

"What?" Once again, Kurt stepped closer to Puck. He was now close enough that Puck could feel Kurt's breath on his face.

"Yeah…." Puck fixed Kurt with a devious stare, even though he knew he probably couldn't see it. "After you and Blaine left Rachel's party, Sam and I ended up playing a little spin the bottle of our own. And man… he's got skills. His mouth is -"

"Get to the point, Puckerman." Puck chuckled as Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. Or at least, that was what he thought Kurt had just done.

"Well, we never talked about it after, and I thought I only liked it 'cause I was so drunk." Puck shivered a little at the memory of Sam's mouth, hot and insistent, on his own. "But then my mom dragged me to Florida, and I went to a bonfire at the beach one night. And I met this guy named Jonathon who -"

"So what?" Kurt sounded confused, not to mention impatient. "You're gay now?"

Puck snorted. "No way." He paused, suddenly wishing that he hadn't drained the last of his beer. Because he could tell that Kurt was staring at him fixedly, his face cast in blue from above. "I'm bi."

This time, it was Kurt's turn to snort. "You have got to be kidding me. Of course, _you _would beli-"

"Did you like it?" Puck was eager to derail Kurt's rant. He had no desire for this, whatever _this_was, to turn into a fight.

"What… Why…" Kurt shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his arms on his chest. Puck couldn't help but smile wickedly. He had Kurt, he knew it. "That is _not _important, Puckerman."

Puck took a step closer to Kurt, a low laugh rumbling deep within his throat. "You totally did."

"So what if I did?" Puck watched as Kurt shook his hair back defiantly in a shower of golden light. "I do not believe in bisexuality. It's -"

"Dude, what does it matter what I call myself?" Puck reached out and smoothed the bangs Kurt had just ruffled. He knew it was a bold move, but Kurt didn't resist so he didn't stop. "You liked kissing me. I liked kissing you…." Puck leaned forward a little, hoping Kurt would do the same.

"That doesn't mean…." Kurt's voice trailed off, and Puck saw him lean little forward just a little bit.

"Hmmm," Puck pretended to be thinking. "Don't really care." He tentatively slid his hands around Kurt's back, his palms coming to rest at the base of his spine. He knew that Kurt still seemed to upset, but he also hadn't run into his house. So Puck decided to go for it.

"No." The protest was weak and lessened even more by the fact Kurt had placed his palms lightly on Puck's chest. "Don't…."

"I'll stop if you want." The words came out of Puck's mouth, but they meant nothing now. "Just tell me to…." He continued to lean in, his breaths shortening as his heart began to speed up.

On his chest, Kurt's fingers flexed a little. "Don't…." Puck watched as Kurt's eyelids fluttered shut. "Stop."

Puck held his breath for a second, wondering if Kurt really did want him to quit. Everything seemed to contradict that; Kurt's hands were still on his chest, and his eyes were closed. But still, he'd said…

"Please, Noah. Don't stop." Kurt whispered the words against Puck's lips, and Puck felt his heart thud painfully in his chest.

Any other time, Puck could have come up with a witty response or something. But Kurt's lips were ready and waiting, and the fireworks were still exploding overhead. And all Puck wanted was to feel Kurt's mouth on his once again….

Without another word, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Kurt's. Unlike before, this kiss was surer, because now he knew that Kurt wanted it as well. There was no question or hesitation in the way their lips moved together. Or in how Kurt slid his arms around Puck's neck while Puck dug his fingers into Kurt's back.

As the fireworks continued, Puck held Kurt close, praying that the moment would never end.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_**In which Puck says goodbye…**_

"So…." Sully crossed his arms over his chest, and Puck knew that it was because he was upset. "Where you plan on going?" His voice was tight. Puck understood that it wasn't because he was worried about losing one of his employees. And that really, it had much more to do with the friendship they'd developed over the past few years.

"Chicago." Puck mirrored Sully's earlier movements and folded his own arms over his chest. "I've been there before. It's an awesome city."

Puck thought about how his mom had dragged him to Florida and Illinois during the summer before senior year. For most of the trip, he'd felt like clawing his eyes out, but it hadn't been all bad. Before leaving Illinois, they'd spent a day in the city. As a family they'd visited Water Tower Place and had lunch at Food Life. Afterward, they'd walked around Michigan Avenue and waited in line for forty-five minutes at Garrett's Popcorn for the most _amazing _cheese corn he'd ever tasted.

That day really was one of his favorite childhood memories.

And now, he wanted to go back there.

For himself.

"Ah, that's a great place. I know a lot of people there." Sully reached out and grabbed Puck's shoulder. "Once you get there, you give me a call. I'll get you set up with a job." As he pulled his hand away, Puck nodded.

"Thanks." Puck smiled and nodded once again as his throat began to grow tight. He wanted to say more, to thank Sully for everything he'd given him and done for him. But he couldn't make the words come out.

The next few moments were filled with heavy silence, but Sully seemed to understand what Puck wasn't able to say. And before either of them could speak, Sully pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

When his ex-boss finally released him, Puck had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Uh…." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was folded in half sloppily and "Kurt" was written on the outside. "Here." Puck handed the note to Sully, who looked at it questioningly.

Puck watched as Sully held up the note. "You really expect him to show up here?"

Before responding, Puck shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not. But if he does, will you give that to him?"

"Yeah, of course." Sully smiled reassuringly at Puck. "You take care of yourself, ok?" He gave Puck's shoulder another squeeze.

"Thanks, I will." Puck rocked back on his heels. He knew he needed to get going, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye to someone who had become such a close friend over the years. "Uh, well… I'll talk to you soon." Smiling at Sully one last time, Puck headed towards the door to the employee room. He could have gone out the front way, but his car was parked out back. And anyway, he wanted to walk through the store room one last time.

Once he was in the backroom, Puck heard the tinkling bell over the entrance ring. For old times' sake, he turned to the small TV screen that Sully used to monitor the front door. He was curious to see who would come in so early in the afternoon. Normally, it was only stay-at-home mothers and business men who came into Skin Deep before six pm.

What he hadn't expected to see was Kurt, his hair and clothes a rumpled mess, searching the store frantically.

Puck's first instinct was to run out there, to see what Kurt wanted. But he'd promised himself that, no matter what, he wouldn't cave to Kurt again. He needed time to find himself _without _Kurt's shadow hanging over him. So, instead of going to Kurt, Puck stood and watched the soundless monitor.

On the small black and white screen, Kurt still looked upset, but now his eyes were focused on something. And the next second Sully walked into the tiny picture.

Puck couldn't tell what was being said, but Sully was shaking his head and Kurt's face fell. And even though the screen was small, Puck could make out how upset he looked. The expression on his face gripped Puck's heart, but still, he stayed put. The next thing he knew, Sully was handing over the note Puck had given him not ten minutes before.

As Kurt unfolded the paper and looked down at it, Puck thought back to the night he'd shared with Kurt.

After pulling off Kurt's shirt, Puck had turned Kurt so that he could see his shoulder. Ever since Kurt had told him that the tattoo _was _the words he'd written, Puck had been desperate to see it for himself. And when he finally had, when he'd finally seen the words etched into Kurt's shoulder, he'd closed his eyes in relief.

Because there, on Kurt's pale skin, were the lyrics he'd written so long ago. And pressing his lips hungrily into them, he'd repeated the words in his head. "Always, sing your love to me softly."

Now, as Puck watched Kurt unfold the note, Puck understood that they'd always be connected. No matter how long they spent apart, there would always be an invisible bond connecting them. But for now, that wasn't enough to make Puck turn back. Someday, it might be, probably would be. Not now though.

Turning away from the screen and from Kurt, Puck walked out the back door. Hopping into his car, he gave Max a quick scratch on the head before starting the motor. "Alright, Max, time to go." In response, Max barked once. It was an enthusiastic woof that made Puck smile as he headed his car east.

As he drove, Puck thought of the note he'd asked Sully to give to Kurt. It had contained only two words: Three years. He hadn't signed it or anything, just scribbled the message before folding the paper in half. At the last second, he'd decided to write Kurt's name on the outside. He didn't know why, but that had seemed important at the time.

Deep down, Puck knew that Kurt would understand that the note was a promise. That three years from now, he would be waiting at the football field of William McKinley High at seven fifteen.

This time, however, Puck wasn't going to spend his years living for that moment. Instead, he planned to find himself without Kurt's shadow cloaking him from everything. He was going to build a new life that was free of past lovers and misdeeds, mistakes and heartbreaks. He was moving to Chicago to do the thing he'd never been able to…

Live as _himself_.

And if, three years from now, Kurt decided to show up in Lima, that was fine.

If not, that would be fine too.

**Squeeka Cuomo's Notes**  
- Just like before, the song lyrics are from the Weezer song Always.  
- If you're ever in Chicago and have the time… Go to Food Life or Garret's Popcorn. Trust me. ;)  
- And… there you have it. The end, the very end. I would like to thank all of you, from those of you who have reviewed every chapter down to the lurkers. Your dedication and… passion for this story has been astounding. You support has meant the world to me. And some days, it was the only thing that kept me going with this. It's been a very emotional journey for me and more than once I wanted to just call it quits. So thank you all so very much for keeping me going. I truly appreciate each and every review.  
- Quack: Once again I find myself at a loss for how to properly thank you. Your support and encouragement with this has been amazing. Thank you so much for listening to me whine and complain (and then whine some more). I'm sure that can't have been fun for you, but I've appreciated it so much. I really couldn't ask for a better beta or want a better friend. Thank you so, so much.  
- Reviews are love.


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